


Blood Of My Blood

by kazzoh



Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst, Drama, Family Secrets, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-01
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2017-10-17 10:37:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 83,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/175982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kazzoh/pseuds/kazzoh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tragedy and a startling revelation conspire to change Tony's life forever. Goes AU after the episode 'Flesh and Blood'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was a typical Thursday morning at NCIS: the squad room had a muted hum of conversation as agents slowly started arriving to prepare for the day ahead; a woman from the mail room was efficiently steering her cart around the office depositing letters and packages on individual desks and the morning news was playing silently to itself on the numerous plasma screens strategically placed around the assigned work spaces of the different teams.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was sitting at his own desk enjoying the calm atmosphere after a gruelling three week long investigation. A seemingly simple case of small manifest irregularities had soon escalated into the hunt for a group responsible for masterminding the theft of large quantities of ordnance from a private company on government contract. Although the seven men responsible were now languishing in NCIS holding cells, Gibbs couldn't let go of his anger. Those weapons had been destined for Iraq and could well have made the difference between life and death for some of the front line troops.

The rest of his team was downstairs logging in the last of the evidence whilst he was reviewing his notes and putting the finishing touches to his final report. He removed his glasses and rubbed vigorously at his eyes; just a few more hours to tie up all the loose ends and then they were out of rotation until the following Monday.

"I knew it was too good to last," Gibbs muttered, when the ping of the elevator heralded an end to the relative quiet he'd been enjoying. Tony DiNozzo emerged, sounding far too cheerful after almost forty-eight hours in the field wrapping up the case.

"I'm telling you Zee-va, ten years from now that guy's gonna be living alone in a penthouse apartment with hair down to his ass and nails like Flojo. We're talking Howard Hughes in the making here," he insisted as he preceded his two weary team-mates to their desks.

"This is another movie reference, yes?" Ziva stated confidently. "This Howard Humes was obsessive about his personal hygiene just like the CEO of Burnett's Ordnance?"

"Hughes, Ziva and no, not a character in a film," Tony replied before pursing his lip in thought. "Well, I guess you could say that in a way. There have been films about him. The Aviator with Leonardo DiCaprio was okay, but my personal favourite was Tommy Lee Jones' portrayal in the TV movie 'The Amazing Howard Hughes' in the seventies. There were definitely flashes of the manic energy he brought to his part as Two-Face in 'Batman Forever'. Not the best film in the franchise, but still..."

Ziva was looking increasingly baffled at Tony's rambling monologue and was immensely relieved when a growled, "DiNozzo!" from Gibbs brought it to an abrupt end.

A surprised Tony turned quickly and with one look at the scowl on Gibbs' face his whole demeanour changed. "Coffee run, on it Boss!" he announced, depositing his backpack behind his desk and heading back towards the elevator without breaking stride. Nothing soothed the savage beast like a healthy dose of caffeine.

With Tony's swift departure, McGee and Ziva grinned at each other gleefully at his discomfort, until they realised that Gibbs was now glaring at them.

" Reports!" he barked angrily before turning away to concentrate on his own work.

Replies of "On it Boss" and "Yes Gibbs" from the two agents were followed by hurried movements to their desks to busy themselves with paperwork and noise in the bullpen returned to its earlier low-level hum.

However, a short while later the sudden appearance of flashing lights on the plasma screen above his desk drew McGee's attention to the current news item. Police units and an ambulance were parked haphazardly in the driveway of an impressive looking mansion, with a number of uniformed personnel moving purposefully around the area. From the angle of the images it was obvious the footage was coming from a helicopter hovering over the scene. A red banner proclaiming 'Breaking News' was rolling across the bottom of the screen followed by the disturbing words 'Businessman Anthony DiNozzo shot dead at Long Island estate.'

"Um, Boss?" McGee began, before tentatively pointing up at the plasma as Gibbs turned towards him. "Do you know where Tony's dad lives? I mean DiNozzo is a pretty rare surname, I guess..."

Gibbs annoyed expression at being interrupted again instantly morphed into one of worry as he took in the scene above him.

"Where is Tony?" he asked, the use of his senior field agent's first name further underlining his concern.

"Here Boss!" Tony called brightly in response as he stepped around the partition next to where Ziva was sitting. He was holding aloft a tray of coffee and a box of assorted pastries which he then deftly slid onto his desk with a flourish. When his co-workers all turned worried faces towards him he continued, "What? Straight there and back Boss, I swear. Close to my personal best time in fact." Looking over to check a clock on the wall for confirmation, his eyes settled instead on the activity on the plasma screen and recognition dawned.

"Um, is that my dad's house?" Tony looked increasingly confused and concerned. "What's going on?"

Ziva hit the remote to turn up the sound and the news anchor's voice filled the office,"We now go live to the scene where Kathy Reynolds has more."

"Thanks Greg," Reynolds acknowledged before launching into her report. "Initial indications are that a private security firm responded to a silent alarm at the property just after five o'clock this morning. The security guards investigating the possible home invasion then appear to have made a 911 call requesting police assistance and an ambulance. Mr DiNozzo was apparently found on the floor in one of the downstairs rooms with gunshot wounds and was later pronounced dead at the scene."

As if to confirm the reporter's words, a black body bag could be seen being wheeled on a gurney to the waiting medical examiner's van.

Tony's legs suddenly refused to hold him up and a background buzzing surged to become a tremendous roar. He swayed drunkenly and desperately reached out to hold onto his desk.

"Get that chair under him!" Gibbs barked as he saw Tony start to go down. McGee and Ziva reacted immediately and managed to manhandle him to the seat.

"'m fine,"Tony managed to murmur, dimly aware of being moved and a comforting hand coming to rest on the back of his neck to keep his head down.

"Sure you are DiNozzo," Gibbs acknowledged, a hint of knowing amusement evident in his reply. His tone turned more commanding as he coached Tony through calming his ragged breathing. As it settled back into a more normal rhythm, Tony was able to lift his head just in time to see Ducky bustle into the bullpen.

"Hey Ducky. Guess my blood sugar went through the floor or something," Tony croaked. "Was just about to have breakfast, honest," he added, pointing at the box of pastries next to him.

Ducky let out a tut of disapproval as he moved past Gibbs to check Tony over. "What have I told you about the importance of a good nutritional start to the day Anthony?" he chided, playing along with the younger man. He silently acknowledged that exhaustion and shock had undoubtedly been equally to blame for Tony's collapse, but knew from experience that he would not be thanked for stating that out loud. He fussed over his patient for a couple of minutes and was finally satisfied when he noticed a little colour was slowly returning to the previously pallid features in front of him.

"Well now, I think that in the circumstances, and in the absence of a good hot, sweet cup of tea, one of these sugary confections will probably suffice for the moment," Ducky announced, before adding, "But don't make a habit of it!"

Tony managed a watery smile in response and reached into the box with a decidedly shaky hand to grab a blueberry Danish. The doctor squeezed his arm reassuringly and moved back a little as the group's attention once again focussed on the plasma, where coverage had returned to the studio.

"...DiNozzo's fortunes have been decidedly rocky in recent years, with both business and marital difficulties. However, his current involvement in plans to construct a prestigious new business complex in Dubai was expected to catapult him back into the corporate big time. It is believed he was instrumental in brokering the multi-million dollar deal through his contacts with certain members of the Saudi royal family. At the moment it is unclear how Anthony DiNozzo's death will affect the project."

"Looks like that trip to Monte Carlo worked out well for my dad," Tony mumbled to Gibbs. "For a little while at least."

Gibbs nodded his head absently whilst giving Tony an assessing look: The young man was pale and shaken yet he was valiantly struggling to regain his composure. The weeks of working practically non-stop had suddenly caught up with him and his usually carefree façade had slipped badly.

The TV anchorman appeared back on the screen and announced, "We're going back to Kathy Reynolds now, where she is talking to Jeffrey Williams, a security guard who was one of the first people on the scene."

Kathy turned to a very young looking man in a blue uniform who was standing nervously beside her. "Mister Williams, what can you tell us about this morning's terrible events."

"Not much I'm afraid, Ma'am. The silent alarm was triggered about five and me an' Luke...that's Luke Trimble, my partner," he added with a wide grin to the camera, "well we was sent to check it out. Found Mister DiNozzo in the library with a bullet hole right between his eyes!"

"So he was dead when help arrived?" Kathy asked, seeking clarification.

"I guess so, but Luke said we should get the police and an ambulance so he called 911" the young man confirmed.

Kathy Reynolds looked surprised that the guard was being so forthcoming, but decided to forge ahead anyway, after all news was news. "Do you know if anyone else was hurt?"

"Nah, I guess not. The staff live in an annexe at the side of the property and don't usually start work until six. Mister DiNozzo's divorced, so he was alone in the main house at the time. Not even his son was there."

"Why would anyone think I'd be there?" Tony asked in a puzzled tone, looking over at his boss. "I haven't set foot in the place since I was twelve."

McGee looked surprised by that revelation and was just about to ask Tony about it when the security guard spoke up again.

"Yeah, the kid, David I think his name is, has been staying in the annexe since the divorce."

"And the hits just keep on coming," Gibbs murmured as he watched Tony's carefully re-constructed mask crumble almost immediately at the seemingly innocuous statement and the emotions of disbelief, hurt and shock raced across his features.

A sudden flurry of activity back on the TV showed an angry looking middle-aged man dressed in the same uniform as the other guard come bustling into sight, pushing past the people milling around the main gates of the property. He grabbed Williams by the arm and dragged him to one side, speaking to him in an urgent whisper. Even though his words were muffled and indistinct it was obvious he was castigating the younger man.

Kathy Reynolds, obviously reluctant to lose her star witness, tried to follow them, however the middle-aged man looked over at her and angrily declared, "This interview is over. Any further questions should be directed to our head office." He then turned quickly and stalked off, pushing the younger man in front of him. The last shot from the camera before it returned to the disappointed reporter was of a hand impacting the back of Jeffrey Williams' head.

Ziva came up beside Tony's chair, a disgruntled look on her face. "I did not know you had a brother," she said almost accusingly.

"Neither did I," Tony answered bleakly.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

After the dramatic events of the morning the whole squad room seemed to be frozen like some surreal tableau. Gibbs' team was centre stage, one member sitting with a stunned and lost expression on his face, whilst his concerned team-mates looked on helplessly. Agents from other sections peered over the partitions in morbid fascination and the TV continued to drone on in the background. The anchorman had moved on to the next news item, with the network oblivious to the consequences of letting a hapless security guard with a complete lack of discretion take a shot at his fifteen minutes of fame.

Gibbs was the first to recover and gestured for Ziva to lower the volume on the plasma, which she did immediately. The ensuing silence was almost eerie and the atmosphere in the squad room was quickly becoming uncomfortable until a barked, "Alright people, show's over. There's nothing more to see here," had people scurrying back to their own desks and attempting to look busy.

Unfortunately, Gibbs could not have been more wrong and, just as earlier that morning, the ping of the elevator signalled more disruption to come when two men stepped out. They didn't have the sharp darks suits or the over-confident air of FBI agents, yet Gibbs' gut was screaming that more trouble was on its way. The men looked around for a few seconds, as if trying to get their bearings, then headed into the main area of the squad room.

"We're looking for Agent DiNozzo," the taller of the two men announced to the whole room.

"And who would you be?" Gibbs asked, striding over to stand in front of the man and subjecting him to a grim stare.

"I'm Detective Wilson and this is my partner Detective Delgado," Wilson replied trying not to appear intimidated by the silver-haired agent. "We're from the Suffolk County PD and we'd like to speak to him about the death of his father."

If possible, Gibbs' expression became even grimmer. Only a few hours after the murder and, judging by their ages, two senior detectives had travelled from Long Island to see DiNozzo in person? In this instance, his gut wasn't the only warning signal.

"Tony, you feeling up to this?" he asked, squeezing the younger man's shoulder.

"Oh, um...sure, I guess," Tony agreed dazedly. "Not sure how much help I can be though."

"Perhaps we should move this meeting to a conference room to give you some privacy," Gibbs suggested quietly to the two detectives, inclining his head slightly to draw their attention to the overly interested audience around them. He let his voice carry as he continued in a deceptively mild voice, "I'm sure the director would appreciate us allowing our co-workers to get back to work without further distraction."

"By all means," Wilson agreed readily, the hint of a smirk visible as he watched the on-lookers suddenly melt away.

Tony stood up immediately, only to find his legs were decidedly wobbly. He had to fight to lock his knees and after a shaky couple of seconds managed to stay on his feet by sheer force of will.

Gibbs saw Tony's struggle but knew any overt show of concern would not be welcome right then. Instead he turned to McGee and asked him to arrange for refreshments before leading the detectives and his senior field agent to the nearest available conference room. Once there, he encouraged the detectives to sit on one side of the table whilst he and Tony settled at the other.

"Thank you Agent Gibbs, I'm sure you're very busy and we wouldn't want to take up any more of your valuable time," Wilson said, hoping the other man would take the hint that his presence was no longer required.

"Oh it's no problem," Gibbs replied sweetly, well aware of the detective's intent. "We've just been putting the final touches to our last open case, so Agent DiNozzo and I are completely at your disposal."

Tony gave his boss a sideways glance; Gibbs was never usually this accommodating, but Tony appreciated his support nonetheless.

As you wish," Wilson conceded gruffly and without preamble removed a notepad and pen from his pocket and asked, "We understand your father came to visit you recently?"

"Yeah, a few months ago now, a surprise visit," Tony confirmed, a little puzzled by the detective's opening gambit.

"Can I ask what you talked about during the visit?"

"Well, nothing really."

The two detectives made a point of exchanging sceptical glances.

"Your father took time out from his busy work schedule to come and see you personally, to discuss 'nothing really'?" Wilson said, making no effort to hide his disbelief.

"We had just launched an investigation into a possible terrorist attack, resulting in the death of a royal aide. We were afraid the prince who employed him might have been the intended victim and had to place him in protective custody, gentlemen," Gibbs interrupted. "Agent DiNozzo took lead on the protection detail and I'm sure, as fellow law enforcement officers, you are aware how time-consuming that can be."

"How would you describe your relationship with your father?" Delgado chipped in, all but ignoring Gibbs' explanation. "We have been told by one of his close friends that things were strained between you. Was his visit your idea?"

"No, I told you, it was a surprise when he showed up. Look can you get to the point. What exactly is it that you're trying to say?" Tony was definitely not at the top of his game and these provincial cops were giving him a headache.

"We understand that your father has had more than a few lean years and you've been estranged from him, then suddenly he is about to come into a substantial amount of money and you have a family reunion." Delgado said no more, but the implication was clear.

"We weren't estranged," Tony said wearily, running a hand through his already dishevelled hair. "My father was always a busy man and it was hard to keep a track on where he was and what he was doing. We touched base every now and again," he added defensively.

"Hmm, not estranged yet you didn't attend his wedding two years ago, nor has your step-mother ever met you. In fact she informed us that she didn't even know of your existence until recently."

Tony thought back to the conversation with his father in the bar of the Adams House. Senior's remark about not liking to advertise his failures appeared to include not only his divorces but his first born son as well. Tony had always suspected it but this apparent confirmation made him feel like he'd been gutted. He slipped further down in his chair, unsure what to say next.

"Would you like to explain exactly where you're going with all this or are you just going to continue with your little fishing expedition indefinitely?" Gibbs demanded. Tony's relationship with his father, or lack thereof had always been his Achilles heel and detective Delgado seemed more than happy to keep jabbing at the vulnerable spot. "If he's a suspect perhaps we should move this meeting to one of our interrogation rooms where we can tape the interview."

"Can you account for your whereabouts last night, Agent DiNozzo?" Wilson asked, deciding to cut to the chase.

"You really think I had something to do with my dad's death?" Tony asked incredulously.

Delgado shrugged. "People have killed for a lot less. It's only a twenty minute flight up to Long Island from DC, then a journey of two miles to your father's property. You could have done the deed and been back by breakfast. The numbers definitely add up."

"Not when you take into account that he hasn't been out of my sight for more than an hour at a time in the last two days," Gibbs asserted bullishly. "As I just told you, we've been wrapping up a case."

Suddenly there was a tap on the door and McGee bustled in carrying a tray of drinks. He placed the tray on the table and pushed a steaming cup of tea, made as per Ducky's exacting instructions, in front of Tony.

"Thanks," Tony mumbled appreciatively, taking a tentative sip of the hot beverage. "Looks like whoever got this month for my next murder charge might just have won the pool, Probie," he added with a look that was halfway between a grimace and a smile.

McGee looked nonplussed. "You're kidding!" he blurted out without thinking.

"Not now Tim," Gibbs stated firmly, before waving him out of the room.

"Sorry Boss," he managed to murmur as he turned to leave, almost bumping into two more men who'd appeared in the doorway.

"Oh great," Tony muttered, recognising one of the men immediately. "Just to make my day complete!"

Gibbs watched, almost feeling awed at the way Tony's demeanour changed from one moment to the next. Within seconds the confusion and wearily defeated look were replaced by a cocky half-sneer. No wonder the man was so good at undercover work.

"Hey Agent Slacks, come to arrest me for offing the old man?" he drawled insolently, manoeuvring his chair back and hitching his feet up to rest on the table. "I know you must be salivating at the idea, but you'll have to get in line. These nice police officers beat you to it."

Sacks scowled and looked decidedly uncomfortable but was spared having to respond by the arrival of Director Vance.

"Agent DiNozzo, I have been informed of the situation concerning your father and I'm sorry for your loss," he said as he swept into the room and sat down, waving for the new arrivals to do the same.

"Yeah, well..." Tony began, not really sure how he should respond. He dropped his feet back to the floor and sat up straight in his chair.

"Director Vance has already informed us that you were on duty at the time your father was killed," Special Agent Sacks of the FBI informed Tony in his usual haughty manner.

"So, what the hell are you doing here?" Gibbs demanded, covering for DiNozzo's discomfort. "We understood Suffolk County LEOs were investigating." He gestured to the cops sitting across from him.

Vance decided to step in to try and diffuse the tense atmosphere by explaining, "Agents Sacks and Nielson are part of a special task force investigating a major member of the Cosa Nostra. They're following up on information which suggests he may have had business links with your father, Agent DiNozzo."

"And Mr DiNozzo's murder is not just a local matter, Agent Gibbs," Sacks added. "We're getting flack right from county legislature level way on up to the White House and beyond."

"Beyond the White House? You mean God's involved now?" Tony scoffed. "My dad always did like to aim high when it came to making friends and influencing people, but I think that's a little beyond even his abilities, don't you?"

"Beyond our borders DiNozzo," Sacks ground out in exasperation.

"Ohhh, I see," Tony responded as if realisation had just dawned.

Although Tony might just have been mocking the up-tight agent, Sacks' words had certainly provided Gibbs with an explanation as to why the two detectives, sitting bemusedly watching, had rushed down to DC. Both the cops and the FBI were responding to pressure from higher up and, on the face of it, a possibly disgruntled son looking for money and payback made the perfect suspect.

When it looked like Tony was going to continue his little game of 'bait Sacks' a quiet, "DiNozzo," from Gibbs was all it took to re-focus the younger agent.

"Sorry Boss," he apologised contritely before sighing deeply and rubbing his hands up and down his face vigorously. "Look, you guys, I've had a really bad day so far and I'd appreciate it if we could just lay our cards on the table and get this over with."

"Your father came down to see you a few months ago and we'd like to know what happened," Agent Nielson said bluntly.

"Why?" Tony wanted to know. "Just because we have some Italian blood in our veins doesn't mean we have links to the Mafia."

"No it doesn't, but this does," Nielson answered, producing a glossy photo of two men seemingly enjoying a friendly meal at a high class restaurant. One of the men was obviously DiNozzo senior and the other one looked vaguely familiar to Tony.

"Carmine Buchetta," he breathed out in complete surprise as he finally put a name to the face.

"So you do know him!" Nielson exclaimed, looking over at his partner triumphantly.

"Yeah, but not because of my dad," Tony insisted. "When I was a cop in Baltimore I was involved in an undercover operation to bring down Mike Macaluso. Buchetta was a heavy for Salvatore Gallo back then and I saw him at a couple of meetings, that's all. Looks like he's come up in the world," Tony added, taking in the Versace suit Buchetta was wearing.

"He is one ruthless SOB," Nielson stated. "He made a slow rise through the ranks, bided his time learning the business and then made a play for the top spot five years ago. Gallo was found dead in his study one morning, killed execution style, and eleven of his most faithful associates disappeared without a trace. Usually the death of a Mafia don, especially a violent one, leads to a free for all for a while, but Buchetta established himself as the new leader virtually overnight. I've been after the bastard ever since."

"This is all very interesting, but what does it have to do with DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked gruffly.

Nielson looked over at Tony and continued, "Buchetta's been under surveillance for years and about four months ago we logged numerous meetings between him and your father in the space of three weeks. They looked pretty pally to me, then suddenly DiNozzo senior visits you and all contact is broken off."

"And you think I had something to do with it," Tony deduced.

Gibbs looked on proudly as his second in command became all business. He could practically hear the cogs whirring as Tony worked through all the new information.

"My father's visit was unexpected and totally out of character," Tony admitted candidly. "To be honest, it freaked me out a little and at one point I thought he wanted to see me personally to pass on some really bad news, like maybe he was seriously ill. We were involved in a high profile case and I didn't have a lot of time. He said his reason for visiting could wait and in the end he left before we had a chance to discuss it."

Tony looked over at the SCPD detectives and continued, "I asked M...um, a friend to help me find out what was going on with my dad and it was only then I got to know he had financial problems. I think maybe that's what he wanted to tell me, but he met up with an old friend and the possibility of a new business opportunity kept him pretty busy after that."

"Who was the old friend?" Sacks asked curiously.

"Prince Omar Ibn Alwaan, the father of the man we were protecting."

"Ah, the Saudi royal family connection from his Dubai deal?" Nielson surmised. "From what we've been able to find out, your father apparently had a number of projects on the drawing board, but needed a major financial backer to move forward."

"And you think my dad was desperate enough to consider dealing with Buchetta?" Tony frowned, deep in thought. "Then he comes here and sees the chance to use legitimate money when his old friend Prince Omar shows up. I don't suppose dear old Carmine would take too kindly to being kicked to the kerb like that."

"He's killed for much less," Nielson agreed. "Man if we can link him to DiNozzo's murder, we can finally nail the bastard, Ron!" he added, a look of gleeful zeal on his face as he addressed his partner.

"Now we have a motive, it's definitely an angle worth pursuing," Sacks agreed stiffly. "The manner of his death matches Gallo's and a couple of other people who crossed him in one way or another."

"Well gentlemen, it looks to me as if this meeting, though brief, has been very productive," Vance announced in a satisfied tone, pushing his chair back.

"Yeah, ya gotta love inter-agency co-operation, hey Slacks?" Tony drawled. He just couldn't help having another dig at the other agent's expense. "Sorry you didn't get to arrest me again, but I guess there's always next time."

Sacks gave him a tight smile and stood up. "Thank you for your help in this matter," he said formally to the NCIS contingent before turning his attention to the Suffolk County detectives. "If you'd like to follow us, I think we can continue our investigations out of the Hoover building."

Gibbs resisted the urge to smile as the other visitors said their goodbyes and Vance led them from the room. Sacks was uptight and too by the book to ever match DiNozzo's natural investigative flair, but he was a good agent, (when he put his prejudices aside), and he reminded Gibbs a lot of a young Tobias Fornell. He and Fornell had different styles and had butted heads many times over the years, but somehow they'd eventually mellowed and, in spite of everything, had become good friends. Perhaps the same would one day be true for the two younger agents.

"God what a tight-ass!" Tony exclaimed as the door closed.

Gibbs almost laughed out loud and had to admit that any friendship between DiNozzo and Sacks was probably a few years off just yet.

"What a day!" Tony groaned dramatically, slumping back in his chair.

"You can say that again!" Gibbs said, in wholehearted agreement.

"Do you know what the funny thing is? I don't really know what I'm supposed to do now," Tony admitted, the little boy lost look back on his face. "I mean, it looks like we've got a pretty good idea who killed my dad, but I don't know if I'm supposed to make funeral arrangements and, if I am, how am I supposed to know what he would have wanted, huh? I don't even know what his taste in music was like these days!"

"What do you want to do?" the older man asked, trying to help Tony focus his chaotic thoughts.

"Do you think they'd let me see him?" Tony asked, his expression a strange combination of hope and fear.

"Who, your father?"

"No," he replied hesitantly, "my...my brother. Do you think his mom would let me meet him?"

The depth of emotion expressed in that simple question would have surprised many people, who on first meeting him, usually fell for Tony's shallow Frat boy persona. Those who took the time to get to know him better soon realised there was an awful lot more to him than met the eye. Gibbs felt privileged that, over the last year in particular, the younger man seemed to feel secure enough in their friendship to be much more open about his feelings and the many masks Tony habitually wore were rarely used when they were alone these days. Gibbs in his turn had opened up about his own demons, leading to a much closer relationship.

"Well, I guess there's only one way to find out," he finally replied, gently squeezing the back of Tony's neck. He stood up and held out his hand to haul Tony to his feet.

"Let's go make a few phone calls."


	3. Chapter 3

Walking into the squad room after their unscheduled meeting, Gibbs and Tony arrived back to find Abby with the rest of their team, huddled around McGee's desk. The group were talking quietly and it was obvious the forensics expert had been brought up to speed about the situation. The atmosphere around them was subdued and their colleagues seemed determined to give them some privacy after the earlier excitement.

Gibbs placed a restraining hand on Tony's arm before they were noticed. "Are you up to this or do you want to get out of here?" he asked, not sure if the younger man's hard won composure could withstand 'Hurricane Abby' sweeping towards them across the office at any moment.

"No!" Tony replied emphatically, dismissing the suggestion out of hand. "I need to finish my report and get McGee to do some digging.

"Okay, it's your call," Gibbs agreed, admiring Tony's resolve.

As they reached their desks, Abby stood and approached Tony hesitantly, surprising everyone watching. "Permission to give you a hug?" she asked quietly.

"Told you before Abs, you never need to ask," he replied with the hint of a smile and enveloped her in his arms. "You give good hug."

"Oh Tony I'm so sorry about what happened, I know you always wanted to be closer to your dad and now it's never gonna happen and we should have Gibbs-slapped some sense into him when he was here instead of looking after him like we did, but we kinda did that because he was your dad, you know? It's really, really sad," she stated mournfully, ending her breathless monologue.

Tony gave her an extra squeeze before pulling back from the hug and giving a defeated little shrug. "I kinda gave up on that little pipe dream after his last visit," he admitted. He didn't elaborate but Gibbs remembered Tony's wounded admission that he'd finally plucked up the courage to tell his father that he'd needed a closer relationship with him only to be rebuffed, however adroitly. "Some people get a Norman Rockwell family, some of us don't," he added resignedly.

Abby kissed him on the cheek and started to smile as she remembered something. "Oh wow, Tony, I almost forgot what else Timmy told me!" she said excitedly. "You have a secret brother!"

"Yeah, I guess I do," he replied, this time managing a smile that reached his eyes. "The kid with the loose-lips on TV said his name was David, but I don't know anything else about him - how old he is, what he looks like, or even which of my many step-mothers ishis mom. He looked over at McGee hopefully and continued, "I was kinda hoping McGoogle over there could use his awesome cyber-skills and track me down some more information."

"Oh...uh, sure, no problem," McGee agreed, thrown slightly by the rare compliment from his team-mate.

"Thanks Tim," Tony said appreciatively before adding, "Now if you people will excuse me, my very demanding boss is likely to kick my ass and cancel my long weekend if I don't get some work done today!" He slipped behind his desk and studiously set to work on his report.

Gibbs allowed himself one of his trademark half smiles, once again marveling at the resilience of his senior agent. As was so often the case, Tony had managed to cut through the tension and lighten the mood of his co-workers with deceptive ease. "You heard the man!" he barked, feeling it was time to make his presence felt, "I want those reports on my desk within the hour, or it won't just be DiNozzo's ass I'll be kicking." He sat back and watched as the others scattered to return to their own work.

Despite a steady stream of other agents coming by to offer their condolences, all necessary work was completed by Gibbs' deadline and McGee had managed to track down a number for Senior's attorney. Although the lawyer wasn't available to take the call, his personal assistant had made an appointment for Tony to meet him in New York the following day, but refused to divulge any personal data about a client over the phone.

As the day progressed, Tony became increasingly frustrated by a lack of progress in his hunt for any information about his brother. Calls to his old family home had gone unanswered, the news network had no new details other than what had been broadcast and the security firm had stonewalled any enquiries except to issue a terse statement that the unfortunate young security guard no longer worked for the company.

McGee was beginning to think Tony's confidence in his abilities had been misplaced as search after search came up empty: There were no birth records for a DiNozzo baby in New York state or any other state where Senior had owned property since Tony's own birth in 1972 and no school or hospital records either. In desperation, he'd even extended the parameters to include the maiden names of all previous Mrs DiNozzos, all to no avail.

"I'm sorry Tony, I can't find any trace of you having any siblings, never mind a brother," McGee finally admitted. "I've tried everything I can think of, but I'm still coming up empty."

"Must've been one of the servant's kids and the security guard got it wrong," Tony surmised, shocked at how disappointed the idea made him feel.

"Let's not jump to any conclusions DiNozzo," Gibbs insisted. "We'll see what your dad's attorney can tell us tomorrow."

"You're coming with me?" Tony asked in surprise.

The look Gibbs gave him left Tony in no doubt as to the answer to that question. It clearly said, 'where else would I be?'

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"Relax Tony," Gibbs soothed as his second in command paced back and forth across the waiting room of DiNozzo senior's high class lawyer's office.

The time of their appointment had come and gone twenty minutes ago and the younger man couldn't contain the nervous energy coursing through him any longer. He seemed startled by the quiet voice and looked up from where he'd been counting the diamonds in the patterned carpet. The way he was dressed made him look more like a GQ model than a federal agent, which wasn't surprising Gibbs mused considering how long it had taken Tony to choose a suit and get ready that morning. However, his face betrayed his lack of sleep the night before and he looked fit to drop.

"How much longer do you think he's gonna be?" Tony asked for the sixth time in five minutes. He paused by a large gilt mirror over an antique fireplace and adjusted his tie. "Do I look okay?"

"You look fine Tony," Gibbs assured him, then looked over to where the receptionist was sitting at a desk by the main office door. "I'm sure it won't be much longer now," he added forcefully.

The young woman in question could feel the intimidating federal agent's attention focussed on her, even though she was trying to seem engrossed in her work and she jumped slightly when the intercom next to her suddenly bleeped. "Mr Edmonds will see you now," she announced thankfully, gesturing to the door in front of them.

"You ready for this?" Gibbs asked as he rose.

"I guess so," Tony confirmed with the ghost of a smile. He took one last look in the mirror to re-adjust his tie then knocked three times and entered, Gibbs just behind him.

A tall, slim man with dark hair and eyes strode across the large corner office and greeted them as they walked through the door. "Welcome Mr DiNozzo, Mr Gibbs," he said, shaking each man's hand in turn. "I'm Warren Edmonds, the late Mr DiNozzo's lawyer. Please take a seat." He led them to an ornate and imposing conference table to their right, where a man and woman were already seated.

"I understand you haven't met your step-mother before, so let me introduce you," Edmonds said politely. "This is Mrs DiNozzo and her attorney, Robert Wiseman."

Tony held out his hand in greeting, however the woman only acknowledged him with a slight inclination of her head and a stare that made him feel like a bug under a microscope. Her attorney was only slightly more welcoming but did at least shake the proffered hand.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware anyone else was going to be here," Tony confessed, trying to cover up some of his unease at the uncomfortable situation.

"No, I'm sure you weren't, but if you think I'm going to let you waltz in here and demand money, you'd better think again young man," Mrs DiNozzo spat out angrily.

"Phoebe, please let me handle this," Wiseman murmured before addressing a stunned looking Tony, "Your step-mother is the main beneficiary of Mr DiNozzo's will and I understand that you are not mentioned at all. She would therefore like you to know that any claim you make against your father's estate will be strenuously contested. You have no legal rights to any of her husband's possessions."

"I'm sorry, I was under the impression you were divorced," Gibbs commented, giving Tony time to collect his thoughts.

"Mr DiNozzo spent most of his final months travelling internationally and although divorce proceedings had begun, no papers were ever signed," Edmonds informed him, studiously keeping his voice neutral.

"I don't want anything from Dad's estate," Tony replied quietly. "He told me years ago not to expect anything and I had no reason to believe he'd change his mind."

"Then why are you here?" Phoebe DiNozzo asked haughtily, obviously not believing Tony's statement. The statuesque blond would have been considered good looking if not for the constant scowl marring her features.

"Is it true I have a brother?" Tony asked bluntly.

"Yes," Edmonds confirmed immediately. "His name is David and he's three years old."

"Oh wow, I really do have a brother Boss," Tony said, a look of wonder on his face. He turned back to Edmonds, "A kid on the news mentioned him yesterday, but when I tried to find out some more about him, there was nothing, not even a birth certificate. I thought the kid must have made a mistake. Do you have a picture?" he asked hopefully.

"No, I'm afraid not," the lawyer answered regretfully, "although I can tell you he looks very much like you did as a child, sandy coloured hair and hazel-green eyes."

At Tony's surprised look, Edmonds continued, "I once saw a picture of you on the desk in your father's office. It was years ago now, but I remember because your father spent ages telling me about your footballing exploits and we got very little work done that afternoon." He laughed at the memory and missed Tony's shocked reaction to hearing his dad had taken some interest in his sporting achievements after all.

"Now as to the birth certificate, I imagine that is because David was born in a small town in Oregon and I'm not even sure if they have a computer there, much less internet access."

A snort of derision from his step-mother brought Tony's attention back to her. "That's the only reason I'm here ma'am, I just want to be given permission to meet him," he insisted.

"Oh, I'm not the child's mother," the woman insisted with distaste, "although I realise I will have to accept the financial burden of raising it now that Anthony has died. No, your father employed a surrogate to bear a child for him."

Tony felt like he'd been kicked in the stomach by a mule and glanced over at Gibbs with a look of such hurt and confusion that the older man wished they'd never come. The emotional roller-coaster ride his friend was being forced to ride was proving to be hell.

"Guess he wanted a do over, huh?" Tony whispered to his boss.

Phoebe seemed oblivious to her step-son's distress and continued with her story, "The surrogacy was already under way when your father and I began seeing each other socially. As things progressed and Anthony suggested marriage, he of course informed me of the situation. I've never wanted children, however I received very strong reassurances that I need take no responsibility for it, so I agreed. I really see no reason my husband's promise cannot stand. It simply does not fit into my lifestyle."

"So what is going to happen to the boy?" Gibbs asked, disgust evident in his voice even though his tone was deceptively mild.

"I will not make excuses for my lack of maternal feelings," Phoebe shot back, her whole body rigid with defiance. "Standforth Military Academy has a wonderful reputation and I know one of the trustees there. He's assured me they will agree to accommodate my requirements and take the boy early, with a little financial encouragement of course. After all, what difference will a few weeks make to when he's allowed to start. The child will be four within the coming semester."

Tony was looking increasingly appalled at his step-mother's words. She wanted to send a three year old to a military academy so he wouldn't cramp her style? Suddenly the words, "I'll take him!" blurted out of his mouth without conscious thought.

Phoebe turned and gave Tony an assessing stare. "And if I say yes, just how much is your offer going to cost me?"

"Nothing. I don't want anything from you ma'am," Tony stated flatly, colour rising in his cheeks.

Phoebe held his gaze for what seemed like an eternity before turning to her lawyer who gave her an almost imperceptible nod.

"If you would step out of the room for a little while, I'd like a few minutes to confer with my attorney," she said.

Tony stood up abruptly and was practically vibrating with pent up anger as they exited the room. Instead of waiting in the reception area he headed out of the door, ignored the elevator and made a bee-line for the stairs.

As he passed the startled receptionist, Gibbs managed a curt, "We'll be back," and followed swiftly after the younger man.

Tony managed to hold it together until they were outside before allowing himself to vent. "That bastard!" he roared as he stormed down the steps and onto the sidewalk. "He marries the most cold-hearted bitch he can find, has a child and doesn't even make sure the kid has a decent guardian if anything happens to him!"

Gibbs could honestly say he'd never seen his friend so angry in all the years he'd known him. Tony was usually the even-tempered one who joked others out of their dark moods.

"How could he do that Boss?" Tony asked almost pleadingly, his anger burning out quickly, leaving him feeling wrung out and sorrowful.

"I honestly don't know," Gibbs replied, at a loss to even speculate on Senior's motives.

Tony took a few deep breaths and made a conscious effort to calm down. Suddenly a look of stunned surprise appeared on his face and he asked, "Oh man, did I just offer to adopt my baby brother?"

"Yeah, I think you kinda did," Gibbs agreed with a grin. "C'mon, we should get back in there before we're missed."


	4. Chapter 4

Spoilers for 'South By Southwest' in this chapter - with a twist!

 

They were barely ten seconds into the elevator ride back up to Edmonds' office when Gibbs flicked a switch and brought the car to a juddering halt. Tony turned to face him, the amused look on his face still discernible in the dim light.

"I don't think the staff here are gonna be as forgiving as they are back at NCIS, Boss," he observed lightly. "They're probably calling the maintenance engineers as we speak."

Gibbs ignored the comments and pinned him with a penetrating stare. "Are you sure about this Tony?" he asked, the intensity of his tone sobering the other man. "It's a big decision and an even bigger commitment that's going to affect the rest of your life."

"You don't think I can do this!" Tony accused, feeling the bite of disappointment at the older man's lack of confidence in his resolve.

"That's not what I'm saying," Gibbs refuted strongly. "You've been through hell this last couple of days and you made a snap decision in there. I just want you to take a breath and ask yourself if it's really what you want to do."

"We could have had this conversation outside and not disrupted the whole building," Tony observed with an exasperated sigh.

"Not private enough," Gibbs replied pragmatically. "Now quit stalling and answer the question."

Tony ran his fingers through his hair roughly and looked deep in thought for a minute before admitting, "I'm not denying that my head's all over the place at the moment and I'm really not sure which way is up, but there's one thing I am sure of Boss – David's family and I want to be there for him if I can. Whatever comes and whatever changes, I don't think I'd ever forgive myself if I walked away now."

"I'm not saying you should forget he exists and go on as if nothing has happened," Gibbs pointed out. "I'm just asking if you would be happier being the big brother, you know - taking him for some of his vacations and going to visit him at school."

"No!" Tony all but shouted. "David's three years old Gibbs, he's a baby! I don't care if some parents think it's right to send their kids away at that age, I sure as hell don't!"

Hands once again ran through much abused hair as Tony fought to calm down again. He noisily blew out a breath before continuing, " Can you imagine what it would be like to be the youngest one there, not even old enough to be officially admitted? I was twelve when I was sent away and I know I always go on about how great it was and how much fun I had, but that first semester was hell. The other kids closed ranks on the newbie who'd never been to school before and I was so homesick I wanted to cry all the time – but DiNozzos don't cry, so I had a constant headache trying to keep it all in.

"My home life might not have been anywhere near happy and I was really lonely most of the time, but I could always hole up in my own room and escape into the TV. All of a sudden I was sharing a dorm with nine other kids and we were only allowed to watch an hour of TV a day and even then it had to be 'educational'. Now if you want to talk about cruel and unusual punishments, that's one right there!"

Gibbs observed Tony quietly, marvelling at how much personal information his second in command had just let slip. It only confirmed what he'd always suspected, but it was gratifying that their relationship had developed over the years to the point where Tony felt able to really open up with him.

"I need to do this Boss," Tony insisted earnestly. "I need to do it for David and I need to do it for me."

"Right then, lets go get things sorted," Gibbs replied simply, squeezing the back of Tony's neck reassuringly. He flicked the switch again and the elevator car lurched into life.

Tony looked a little shocked and gave the other man a sideways glance, mulling over his sudden capitulation before exclaiming, "You were just playing devil's advocate!"

A knowing grin on Gibbs' face was his only reply.

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As Tony and Gibbs stepped back into the reception area, Phoebe DiNozzo's strident tones could clearly be heard coming from Edmonds' office.

"Can't you send someone to find them, Warren?" she was demanding. "Robert and I are dining with the Adlingtons tonight and I still haven't decided on my gown."

Standing in the doorway, Gibbs gave the woman an assessing look and his lip curled with distaste. The proprietary hand she'd placed over her attorney's own spoke of more than a professional relationship: It seemed Phoebe had already moved on to fresh meat.

"Ah, here they are now," Warren Edmonds observed smoothly. "Shall we get back to the business at hand, gentlemen?" he asked, ushering everyone back to their chairs. "I believe we have come to an accord."

"Your step-mother has graciously agreed to your proposal," Wiseman informed them pompously. "However, she does feel a certain obligation to young David and, in honour of your father, has generously offered to provide an allowance to help you with your brother's up-keep. He gave them a sickly sweet smile. "I trust an amount of twenty-five thousand dollars per annum will be acceptable."

"I told you I don't want..." Tony began heatedly as he felt his anger rise again. He was about to stand when a restraining hand on his arm effectively stopped him. His eyes flashed dangerously and he turned to be met by an implacable stare. A silent struggle ensued in that uncanny way he and Gibbs had of carrying on a conversation without words and Tony finally looked away.

Gibbs squeezed the arm under his hand lightly and murmured, "Later Tony," before addressing the others. "That is acceptable to Mr DiNozzo," he agreed firmly.

"Good, good!" Wiseman exclaimed happily, sharing a delighted smile with his no doubt soon to be new wife. "I will get the papers drawn up as soon as possible and send them over to your lawyer for approval. Here are my details," he offered, handing over a gilt-edged business card. "David will be delivered to your hotel by five this evening and the housekeeper will arrange to have his things boxed up and sent to you next week.

"You want to do this now?" Tony asked incredulously, his stomach churning nervously at the thought.

"If you want the child, I see no reason to delay," Phoebe replied condescendingly. "Do you?"

"Mrs DiNozzo, we only came here today to make enquiries about the possibility of Tony meeting his brother. Obviously, everything else that's happened since arriving has come as a big surprise and we could do with a few days to prepare for David's arrival," Gibbs pointed out reasonably.

"I'm sorry, he's already on his way," Phoebe replied, sounding anything but sorry. It was also evident from her tone that as far as she was concerned the matter was not up for discussion. "I made a call to the house when you were out of the room to arrange for him to be driven into the city. The only thing we need now is the name of your hotel and Robert and I will be leaving."

Gibbs turned his attention to Edmonds and asked, "Could we meet David here? Tony and I weren't planning on staying over."

"Of course," Edmonds agreed immediately. "Phoebe, if you can give my secretary the cellphone number to contact David's escort, we'll take care of finalising everything for you."

"Oh Warren darling, would you?" she replied enthusiastically. "Robert and I have so much still to do before this evening." She gave the attorney a quick peck on the cheek and with a hasty and insincere, "It's been a pleasure," thrown over her shoulder at Gibbs and Tony, she swept towards the door.

Wiseman lingered long enough to shake hands and exchange goodbyes, before a commanding, "Come, Robert," had him scuttling after his client-cum-girlfriend.

"Well, there go two people who deserve each other!" Edmonds commented sarcastically, dropping his neutral manner and managing to elicit surprised barks of laughter from both of his remaining guests. "Oh dear, that really wasn't very professional of me was it?"

"Maybe not, but I like your style," Gibbs replied with a grin, the attorney's comments sounding like something Ducky might say.

"Call me Warren," Edmonds offered with a matching grin. "Now if you'll excuse me for a little while, I'll see if I can finalise arrangements for getting David here safely and I'll also see if I can ascertain what items have been sent with him." He shook his head ruefully, "I'm afraid you may find you need to take a little shopping trip for some essentials for the poor boy."

As soon as the door closed behind the attorney, Tony rounded on Gibbs. "Why did you say we'd take the witch's money?"

"Because, raising a kid is an expensive business, Tony and even though what she's offering is a pittance in comparison to how much she's worth now, it will help make things a little easier for you."

"Yeah, she probably blows more than that every year just getting her hair and nails done." Tony agreed, his mouth twisting into more of a grimace than a smile.

"You know, kids are like money pits. You won't be able to afford all those fancy clothes and shoes now," Gibbs joked, trying to lighten the mood. "I foresee shopping trips to Sears with me in your future."

His comment had the desired effect and Tony managed to raise a smile before his face fell again almost immediately and he looked very troubled. "Yeah, well about that..." he began. "Um, there's something I've been trying to tell you for a while now."

Gibbs' good humour was immediately replaced by concern as he watched Tony squirm uncomfortably under his scrutiny.

"Come on DiNozzo, out with it," he insisted.

"I'm not sure now is the right time," Tony replied quickly, a hint of desperation in his tone. "It could wait until later." Like until David's heading off to college maybe, he added silently.

Gibbs was in two minds whether or not to force the issue or let him off the hook. The younger man was running on fumes and it showed. However, he decided to go with his gut because he knew from experience that an exhausted DiNozzo was much more likely to be honest than one who was allowed to rebuild those formidable walls around himself. One of his patented glares was all it took to disabuse Tony of the notion of postponing an explanation.

I'll take that as a no then shall I," Tony quipped , trying to hide his discomfort. "Yeah well, um...anyway you know last year when my Uncle Clive died?" he began hesitantly. A curt nod from Gibbs forced him to continue, "Then his solicitor was trying to contact me and we ended up playing phone tag without actually making contact?"

"Yes," Gibbs agreed ominously.

"Well I wasn't exactly truthful about what happened," Tony confessed reluctantly. "Um not lying though, not really. More like not telling you the whole truth I guess." He paused and looked over at his boss warily. He knew how Gibbs felt about lying and right then he felt like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Cut the crap DiNozzo and just tell me, I don't need chapter and verse!" Gibbs barked, losing patience.

Tony took a deep breath and pushed on, "My cousin Crispian did insist on that loan Uncle Clive gave me being repaid, but only because he was pissed that the old man left me something in his will."

"Which was...?"

"Three million."

"What!" Gibbs exclaimed in surprise. "He left you three million dollars?"

"No, three million pounds, um sterling...and the mews house in London," Tony replied sheepishly.

"Why didn't you tell us before, why lie?" Gibbs face was a study in confusion.

"I panicked, okay?" Tony admitted exasperatedly. "You were talking about me leaving and McGee's sniping was getting increasingly nasty. When Ziva told me he'd lost most of the money from his books in some kind of hedge fund disaster, how could I tell the truth?

"I honestly never expected to get anything, that's why I was making such a big deal about it. You know how I like to wind everybody up, especially the probie, but I'd never deliberately set out to hurt anyone."

"I know," Gibbs agreed with a sigh. Tony and Kate had had the measure of each other, their sibling-like squabbling livening up the office and Gibbs had only seen that light-hearted banter escalate to something more serious a few times. The two other members of his team were different though. McGee usually took Tony's antics in good heart, but he had been hitting out more and more lately and Ziva's humour could be decidedly vicious at times - knives weren't her only means of cutting deep.

"Anyway, I couldn't see how to get out of the hole I'd dug for myself if I told the truth. It would have changed everything, how they treated me, and I would've had to leave. I didn't want to do that – still don't want to do that. It was bad enough when I was a cop and the guys found out I came from money." He broke off again and gave an involuntary shudder, "If McGee thinks the hazing I gave him was bad he's more naïve than a federal agent ought to be!"

"So that little scene in the squad room when the lawyer phoned? How did you stay so calm?" Gibbs wanted to know.

"I could tell you it's an example of why I'm so good at undercover work," Tony offered with the hint of a smile. "Truth is though, I kinda staged the call in the office for your benefit. My frat brother, Greg, volunteered to help when I told him what was going on." He shrugged, "The solicitor actually phoned me at four in the morning when the office in London opened. They're five hours ahead of us after all and that was the one part of the plan I was worried about. If they really wanted to talk to me, why call in the afternoon, their time? None of you batted an eye though, so I just went with it."

Gibbs subjected his senior field agent to an assessing stare. Just when he'd convinced himself he knew all the important things about DiNozzo, another bombshell had been dropped.

"So, money's the least of your problems, huh?" he observed wryly.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that," Tony agreed, his teeth worrying at his bottom lip. "Are we okay?"

"Do you mean other than the fact that you can be a total idiot sometimes?" Gibbs asked, his hand delivering a light clip to the back of the younger man's head.

"Um yeah, other than that," Tony replied with a embarrassed smile.

"Yes, we're fine," Gibbs confirmed fondly. "Now, I suggest we make a list of anything your brother might need in the short term and start thinking about child-proofing your apartment. Your spare room will need decorating and kitting out for a little boy."

"Oh man, I'm really doing this aren't I?" Tony breathed, suddenly feeling massively out of his depth.

"We're doing this," Gibbs insisted forcefully. "And don't forget about the rest of the team, they'll all want to help." A broad grin suddenly spread across his face as a thought occurred to him. "It's a good thing you've got all that money though, because once Aunty Abby gets hold of your credit card, you're gonna need it!"

"Oh no," Tony said, groaning dramatically. "I'll be broke by Christmas!"


	5. Chapter 5

Following the departure of Phoebe DiNozzo and her attorney, the rest of the afternoon had been taken up by discussions with Warren Edmonds. He'd suggested that driving back to DC would be the best idea, rather than upset David with a trip to a loud and busy airport and his personal assistant had arranged for a rental car, complete with child seat. Thankfully, the housekeeper at Senior's house had ensured that the young boy had left with a suitcase full of essentials, so no impromptu shopping trip was needed after all - much to Gibbs' relief.

As to the funeral, Edmonds informed them that Senior's wishes had been included in his will, although a date had yet to be fixed due to the nature of his death. He suggested allowing a few weeks grace in case further police investigation was needed and to allow for Senior's many business associates and friends to be contacted, some of whom were spread out across the globe. Tony was only too happy to leave everything in the hands of the attorney and when Edmonds offered to represent him where David was concerned, he readily agreed. Gibbs' silent nod of approval seemed to confirm that he'd made the right decision.

The day wore on and they received word that the child and his escort were stuck in traffic. Finally however, just as they were wrapping up the last of the arrangements to get the ball rolling for Tony to legally adopt David, the intercom buzzed and a slightly distorted woman's voice announced, "Mr Edmonds, the boy has just arrived. Should I send him straight in?"

"Yes please Claudia, I think Mr DiNozzo is eager to meet his brother," Edmonds confirmed, giving Tony an encouraging smile.

Tony tried to return the smile but his body was practically thrumming with tension and refused to co-operate, other than to allow him to lurch unsteadily to his feet.

The door opened to reveal Claudia ushering in a small sandy haired boy dressed in a black suit, whose startling hazel-green eyes darted around the room anxiously.

Wow, I always thought I got my eye colour from Mom's side of the family, Tony thought absently as Edmonds took charge of the little boy.

"My, my, David, you have grown since the last time I saw you," Edmonds observed genially, leading the way over to his other guests. "This is your brother, Tony, and his very good friend Mr Gibbs. They've travelled all the way from Washington DC to meet you."

Tony's heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was in danger of breaking right through his ribcage and he marvelled at how the three year old in front of him was handling the situation. The little boy was obviously scared, yet he held out a tremulous hand and said in a slightly quavering voice, "Hello, sirs."

"I'm just Tony," his older brother insisted in a decidedly croaky voice, "and this is...um..." He broke off, unsure how David should address Gibbs. He somehow didn't think his boss would appreciate being called 'Uncle Jethro', no matter what the circumstances!

"You can call me Gibbs for now," the man in question offered, shaking the tiny hand gently. "Nice to meet you David. Do you know why you're here?"

"Uh, huh," David confirmed quietly, his bottom lip trembling suspiciously. "Sofia says father's gone to live with the angels and the scary lady said I had to come here." The last part of his sentence came out as barely a whisper.

The adults in the room shared knowing looks as to who the 'scary lady' was and Tony was heartily glad the step-monster was long gone or he suspected he'd be facing new murder charges and this time it wouldn't be a frame-up. As it was, he just stood there not really knowing what to do or say to comfort the little boy.

Thankfully Gibbs' flair for dealing with children came up trumps again and he crouched down in front of David, holding him loosely so he could pull away if he wanted. "You don't have to worry about anything, okay?" he said reassuringly. "You never have to see that scary lady again and Tony wants you to come and live with him, don't you Tony?"

"Um, sure," the younger man agreed, envious of Gibbs' easy rapport with his brother. "You'll have your own room and everything. My apartment's not very big but it'll be fun, huh? We'll go to the park, watch movies, kick back and enjoy pizza and beer...um well obviously not the beer," he amended quickly, looking sheepishly at his boss.

Gibbs rolled his eyes and winked at David, "You're brother can be a bit of a doofus, but he's a good guy, really."

David smiled shyly and seemed to visibly relax a little bit.

"Well, I wish there was more time to get better acquainted, but I'm afraid the day has gotten away from us," Edmonds apologised, checking his watch. "At least you should have missed the worst of the traffic."

"Thank you for all your help Mr Edmonds," Gibbs said as he shook hands with the attorney. As the afternoon's events had unfolded he'd become more and more impressed with the other man's quiet efficiency and looked forward to meeting him again.

"Don't mention it. I'm just so thankful David is going to live with someone who obviously has his best interests at heart. Your father would be proud of you Tony."

"Yeah well, that's debatable," Tony replied sceptically.

"There's no denying your father was very single-minded when it came to pursuing business success and that his personal life suffered as a result," Edmonds admitted sadly. "I hope I'm not being too indiscreet by telling you that if he had not become so engrossed in his last enterprise, his divorce would have been finalised and his new will would have reflected his wish to leave everything to his children."

The attorney broke off and shook his head ruefully. "Unfortunately Anthony was always more interested in going for the next big prize rather than making time to deal with such mundane necessities as signing documents. If he'd had someone like Claudia running his affairs," he added gesturing to his personal assistant, "those lean years of his need never have happened."

The middle-aged woman in question gave them all a smile. "I'm afraid I am a stickler for dotting 'i's and crossing 't's," she admitted unashamedly. "I know the younger employees call me Warren's Rottweiler and I take that as a compliment, even though I don't think that's what they intended."

Gibbs joined in with the ensuing laughter and was grateful that Claudia had been able to bring a smile to Tony's face after the disclosure that even to the end, his father had allowed his children's interests to be pushed to one side because of business.

Gibbs knew Tony had never really cared about the money and would have given every cent he owned if it meant his dad had enjoyed spending time with him. He'd undeniably been brought up with expensive tastes, but money didn't define him the way it had Senior. He could easily have opted to follow his father into the business world and perhaps have become a corporate heavyweight, but his sense of justice and a desire to make a real difference in people's lives had won out and Gibbs was more proud of him for that than he ever let on to the younger man.

They exchanged final goodbyes with Edmonds and Claudia offered to take them down to the parking garage to pick up the rental car that had been delivered earlier. As they passed the receptionist's desk she scowled darkly at the young woman sitting there, who was distractedly flirting with a handsome young man in a sharp looking, dark suit. No words were exchanged but the look had the desired effect, with the receptionist turning back to her work and the man hastily heading for the exit.

Claudia flashed a knowing grin at Gibbs and Tony and winked at a frankly bemused David as they too left the office. Once down in the parking garage, she handed over the keys to the rental car, helped them strap David into the car seat and produced a picture book to keep him amused during the journey.

"Wow, that Claudia's one super efficient lady," Tony commented admiringly as he watched her walk back to the elevator.

"Yeah," Gibbs agreed with a slight smile, "I could do with her at NCIS to keep you in line."

Tony's disgruntled, "Boss!" led to quiet giggling drifting towards them from the back seat and had both adults smiling.

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On the side-walk outside Edmonds' building, people turned to look as a young man came barrelling out of the revolving door and rushed down the street. He stopped next to a nondescript dark sedan, looked furtively around and then slipped inside.

"They took the kid to a fancy lawyer's office on the fifth floor," he informed the two other occupants breathlessly. "I managed to get in and sweet-talk the girl on the front desk but she didn't know much. Said two men turned up early afternoon, but office gossip's split about who they were. She thought the smart money was on them being the kid's family but there's also talk that they're Feds. They were leavin' just after me."

"Feds? The boss ain't gonna like this, Joe," the driver of the sedan observed with a worried frown. "What now?"

"Possibly Feds," Joe stated matter of factly, "and the boss said follow the kid, so that's what we do, at least until we know what's going on. Did you find out what kinda car they're driving Louie?"

"It's a rental, blue Ford Taurus. Should be comin' outta the parking garage any minute."

"Fine. We'll contact the boss when we know more. No point upsetting him before we get a better idea of what's we're dealing with," Joe decided and the other two men nodded in relief. Upsetting the boss was never a good idea.

Five minutes later when Tony and Gibbs drove out of the parking garage to start their trip back to DC, the dark sedan allowed a few cars to pass before merging with the stream of traffic and following them at a safe distance.

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Tony turned the key in the lock to his apartment and pushed open the door with a huge sigh of relief. A big snarl-up on the New Jersey Turnpike had added almost an hour to their journey and it was fast approaching midnight. Being stuck in a slow moving car with a grumpy Gibbs was not his idea of Friday night fun; thankfully David had fallen asleep fifteen minutes into the drive and his mere presence had reduced the older man's usual irate exclamations to muttered curses under his breath. He hadn't even sounded the horn once, which was unheard of in the circumstances.

Tony put David's suitcase down and turned to see Gibbs making his way slowly into the apartment and heading towards the spare bedroom, the little boy sprawled across his shoulder, still fast asleep. Tony followed and when they reached the bedroom door, he pushed it open and let the older man enter.

Gibbs walked over to the bed, pulled back the expensive looking sheets and gently laid his burden on the mattress. He then carefully pulled off the young boy's shoes and expertly slipped him out of his clothes. Tony entered the room a minute later holding a pair of blue silk, monogrammed pyjamas.

"Can you believe these?" he asked incredulously, pointing out the pyjamas which had three letter 'D's hand embroidered on the breast pocket. "Not exactly age appropriate. The kid's liable to slip right out of bed in the middle of the night and the rest of his stuff's not much better. There's even a couple of sailor suits," he added, his tone half way between being amused and horrified.

"They'll do for now," Gibbs insisted and deftly dressed David in them. As he tucked the blankets securely up to the little boy's neck, he ran a hand over the sandy coloured hair and whispered, "Sleep well."

Tony looked on from the doorway of the small room as Gibbs rose to leave. There was no way in hell he could ever learn to do that. The kid hadn't even stirred during the whole process.

"He's had a busy day," Gibbs commented as he shooed Tony out of the room in front of him and left the door slightly ajar so light from the corridor would provide a comforting glow within.

Strange noises and mutterings drew their attention to the front door, followed by a loud thud, more muttering and finally the scrape of a key in the lock that heralded the arrival of an excited Abby, her arms laden with bags.

"Is he here?" she exclaimed, rushing into the apartment, the noise of her platform booted feet thankfully muffled by the plush carpet.

"Shhh!" both Gibbs and Tony said at the same time and stopped her in mid-stride.

"David's asleep, we just got back and put him straight to bed. It's been a long day," Gibbs explained quietly, wondering if Tony's insistence that he phone Abby from the car to let her know about bringing his little brother back to DC had been such a good idea.

"Oh, sorry!" Abby replied, duly chastened. "Can I sneak a peek? I promise to be as quiet as a mouse. Honest injun!" She underlined her promise by making an exaggerated cross over her heart with a finger. Gibbs managed to steer her into the living room as she babbled on more quietly, rummaging in the bags all the while. "I brought him a few things - blocks, some cars, a few books, a helicopter, a ball of string, a ..."

"A ball of string Abs?" Tony interrupted looking confused.

"Sure, all little boys like carrying bits of string around in their pockets, don't they?" Abby explained as if the answer should be perfectly obvious. "So can I take a peek? Just a quick one?" she asked again, dumping all the bags on the coffee table.

"Okay, but just a couple of seconds," Gibbs agreed, reluctantly leading her down to the bedroom and pushing the door open a little more.

"Aw Tony, you've got a mini-me of your very own!" Abby gushed quietly as the light from the corridor fell on David's face. "He looks just like you!"

As Abby looked set to linger much longer than she'd promised, Gibbs gently gripped her arm, closed the door until it was just slightly ajar and set off for the front door.

"Get some sleep DiNozzo. Abby and I will see you in the morning," he called back over his shoulder.

"You're leaving?" Tony practically squeaked with panic, "You're leaving me alone with him?" The abstract idea of having a brother hadn't really had time to fully sink in never mind the reality of actually having him there asleep in the spare room and it was suddenly overwhelming.

"DiNozzo, you'll be fine, don't sweat it," Gibbs assured him. "We'll be back tomorrow, I promise."

"But what do I do when he wakes up?"

"Feed him?" the older man suggested with a sardonic smile as the door closed behind him.

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Across the street from Tony's apartment building, Louie Russo sat alone brooding in a cold car, whilst the two older members of their little group got to sleep in a nice hotel room a couple of blocks away. Man, being the youngest really sucked and he couldn't wait to gain more seniority so he could let some other dumb schmuck do the grunt work. His suggestion to take out the car the kid was riding in before they got too far from New York had been dismissed out of hand, but if they'd done that, the problem would've been solved and he'd have been able to sleep in his own bed.

If Joe and Danny thought he was going to hang around DC for days on end freezing his ass off at night, they had another thing coming. Maybe that seniority would come a lot faster if he took the initiative and handled the situation for the boss himself. After all, as far as he was concerned, the kid had to go and no amount of sitting around was going to change that fact.

Louie smirked as he let himself relax further into his seat. Tomorrow was going to be very interesting...


	6. Chapter 6

Gibbs waited until after lunch the next day before heading over to Tony's apartment, hoping to give the two brothers a little time alone to start bonding. He'd also managed to convince Abby to wait until Sunday to visit; David needed a little time to settle in and Gibbs thought her sometimes overpowering enthusiasm might be too intimidating only a day after the kid's life had been turned upside down. As expected, she hadn't been happy about it, however a promise of breakfast chez DiNozzo on Sunday morning had sweetened the deal.

Gibbs used the rest of the morning productively, calling to get a child seat fitted into the back of his car and then going to a local mini-mart to pick up some essentials. Finally, a little before one he found himself outside DiNozzo's door. He paused long enough to manoeuvre the grocery sack he was carrying into one hand so that he could reach out to knock with the other. However, before his knuckles could even make contact, the door practically flew open to reveal a slightly manic looking DiNozzo.

"Oh, hi Boss!" Tony greeted enthusiastically, his voice much too cheerful. "Come on in, come on in, let me help you with that, do you want coffee? Of course you want coffee, you're Gibbs, the man with more caffeine in his veins than blood!" he babbled as he took the sack and led the way into the kitchen. "I've got a new Colombian blend you should like – it's got the consistency of molten tar and is guaranteed to strip the lining out of your throat or your money back! Just the way you like it huh, Boss?"

Gibbs observed his second in command critically for a moment before asking, "How's it going DiNozzo?"

"Oh great, great! Getting to know my little bro, having fun, you know," he replied too brightly. All it took was a raised eyebrow and a quirk of the lips from Gibbs and Tony caved, "Aw Boss, I'm dying here," he admitted, the mega-watt grin and happy façade fading away to leave his features suddenly looking drawn and worried and his shoulders slumped dejectedly.

"Did you get any sleep last night?" Gibbs asked, even though he was pretty sure what the answer would be.

"Not much," Tony replied with a weary shrug. "I was afraid David might wake up and be scared when he didn't recognise where he was, so I spent most of the night on the sofa listening out for him."

"Where is he now?"

"In his bedroom, playing with the toys Abby brought with her last night. He's so damned quiet and polite, he's like a Stepford child and I don't know how to talk to him or get him to relax. Is bad parenting genetic, do you think?" Tony huffed unhappily. "If it is, I'm in serious trouble."

"You'll do fine, but it's not just David who needs to learn to relax," Gibbs pointed out, placing his hands on the younger man's tense shoulders. "You always try too hard to be liked when you're around little kids. Just be yourself."

"I'm so far out of my depth here I can't even see the bottom," Tony admitted with a defeated sigh.

"DiNozzo, parenting is on the job training and most people usually start out with tiny babies who have no expectations of them. By the time the kids are aware enough of what their moms and dads are doing, they've managed to pick up enough skills to cope and the mind-numbing fear of becoming a parent has mellowed into acceptance that they're gonna screw up occasionally. You're already at a disadvantage by effectively inheriting an almost four year old, but I honestly believe you're gonna do great. You will screw up, it's the nature of parenting. I just don't think it will be anything really bad.

"You have been thrown in at the deep end, but I know with a little help, you'll do fine. You're a good man and you really care about the kid. It's gonna be difficult at first, but the pay off's definitely worth it."

"Maybe I'd feel better if I could just understand why he did it, Boss."

"Your father?" Gibbs surmised.

"Yeah," Tony practically choked out. "Why did he want to screw up another kid's life? David reminds me so much of how I was when Mom died. He's this sad little thing creeping around the place trying not to be noticed or be a nuisance. He won't even play in here because he's afraid of being too loud or making a mess for God's sake! It's deja vu all over again!"

"He's just lost his dad, Tony and maybe the man wasn't around as much as he should have been, but it's got to be affecting him. If you add to that practically being thrown out of the only home he's ever known and moving in with a stranger, he's coping just fine. In fact I think he's gonna prove to be as brave and resilient as his older brother."

"Okay that does it," Tony declared suddenly, "I need to check out your basement right now."

"Why?" Gibbs asked, surprised at the change in Tony's demeanour.

"Because there's gotta be a pod down there somewhere!" Tony explained, unable to keep a straight face. "There's been way too many compliments in the last few days for you to be the real Gibbs!"

"Smart ass," Gibbs snorted as his hand connected with the back of the younger man's head. "C'mon, lets go see if we can lure the kid out of his bedroom." He lead the way and gave a cursory knock on David's door before walking straight inside.

The startled little boy looked up from where he was sitting cross-legged on the floor by the bed, his hands immediately flying behind his back to hide something he'd been holding.

"Hey kiddo, what have you got there?" Gibbs asked as he went over and crouched down in front of the boy.

"Nothing! Please don't take it!" David practically sobbed in obvious distress.

"Hey, hey, no-one's gonna take it away, I just thought it looked interesting," Gibbs soothed. "Is it a photograph?"

"Uh, huh," David whispered looking very scared.

"Wow, it must be really important. Can I have a look?" Gibbs asked, trying to be as non-threatening as possible.

David's reluctance was written all over his face.

"I promise I'll only take a look. You can have it right back," Gibbs assured the little boy, who stared at him distrustfully before finally acquiescing. He studied the crumpled photograph in his hands for a few seconds. It showed a happily smiling David being held in the arms of a pretty young woman. As Gibbs was handing the photo back he noticed a message on the back, written in pencil. It read, 'To my Davey, all my love forever, your Maria. "Who's the pretty lady?"

"My Maria," David replied with a sadness in his voice that was heartbreaking. "Father's scary lady sent her away and smushed up my picture," he confided sorrowfully, beginning to pat it repetitively as if trying to smooth out the creases. "Sofia got it from the trash can."

"We know some people who could fix that right up, don't we Tony?" Gibbs offered gently.

"We sure do," Tony agreed, relieved to see a hopeful look appear on his little brother's face. "We'll give it to our friends Abby and Tim next week and I bet it'll look as good as new, okay?"

David nodded his head shyly.

"Now how about coming and watching a movie with us, huh?" Gibbs suggested brightly. "Nothing beats a good movie when it's pouring it down outside," he added, pointing to the rain lashing against the windows.

The reluctant look returned and David shook his head, "No thank you."

"Okay then, but you're welcome to join us if you change your mind," Gibbs assured him, deciding not to push the issue. He beckoned Tony to follow him out of the room, leaving the door open both literally and figuratively.

Tony was looking pensive as they headed back to the other room. "Do you think she could be David's biological mom?" he asked with a worried frown. Even after less than twenty-four hours and all his fears about what kind of parent he would be, the thought of losing David now made his stomach churn.

"As my dad would say, lets not go borrowing trouble," Gibbs advised, correctly interpreting the younger man's thoughts. "We'll contact Edmonds on Monday and see what he can find out, okay?" When he received an uncertain nod in reply, Gibbs added, "Now, what are we gonna watch?"

"I'm not sure I've got anything appropriate, I think he's a little young for 'Die Hard', don't you?" Tony remarked.

"Oh, come on DiNozzo, if I know you, you've probably got a secret stash of Disney DVDs somewhere around the place," Gibbs asserted with a smirk.

"Well the Pixar stuff is quality animation, with really strong storylines," Tony said defensively as he started rummaging around in the back of a small cabinet by the TV. After a few seconds he brought out a DVD. "Toy Story?" he asked, holding up the case.

"Sure," Gibbs agreed affably. "Even I've heard of that one."

Once Tony had everything set up, the two adults sat quietly and waited to see if the movie would have the desired effect and get David out of his room. Just as the third trailer started and Gibbs was beginning to wonder if his idea would work, a slight squeak from the bedroom door alerted them to movement in the hallway. David padded quietly out of his room and slowly sidled closer until he was finally leaning slightly against the arm of the sofa, his eyes glued to the TV.

"That looks like it's gonna be good, huh, Boss," Tony commented as the trailer ended, trying for a casual tone and studiously pretending not to notice David's presence.

"Yeah. What do you think David?" Gibbs asked, immediately regretting pushing too soon when the young boy looked ready to bolt back to his room. Thinking quickly he changed tactics and turned to address Tony, "Hey DiNozzo, I just remembered, you promised me some real stove made popcorn next time we watched a movie together. You can't go back on a promise!"

"Um...oh yeah, sorry Boss," Tony replied taking a few seconds to catch on to the ruse. "Think I'll need a little help, it's more complicated than the microwave stuff. Tastes better though."

"What do you think Davey, you ever had popcorn?" The young boy shook his head, but seemed pleased at Gibbs' use of the short form of his name; Davey it was then. "Want to help us?" the older man prompted when he still looked like a skittish foal. He held out his hand in invitation and looked encouragingly at the child.

Just before the pause became too uncomfortable, Davey took a hesitant step forward and a small hand inched its way out until it was resting in Gibbs' palm. A reassuring smile and a squeeze from the older man brought a tentative smile in return and they all made their way into the kitchen, Gibbs offering a triumphant look at Tony.

The next thirty minutes were spent making a large batch of popcorn. As usual with the help of a willing child, it took longer than normal, but Davey's delight as he heard the pops and watched the kernels expand and fly about under the glass saucepan lid made it all worthwhile. Gibbs advised Tony to take it easy with the butter and salt and Davey was soon happily ensconced between the two adults on the sofa, his little legs barely making it to the edge of the seat cushion. After being proclaimed the guardian of the popcorn, a large bowl was settled on his lap and his arms wrapped around it proudly as he lost himself in the adventures of Buzz, Woody and friends.

By the time the movie credits started to roll, David was fading fast and had slipped sideways, his head resting on Tony's arm and his eyes at half mast.

"C'mon kiddo," Gibbs announced as he stood up and hoisted the sleepy child into his arms. "I think you could do with a quick nap before we go on an adventure."

"A 'venture?" David managed to mumble before his eyes closed completely and he was out like a light.

"What kind of adventure?" Tony asked suspiciously.

"Well, we really need to get some everyday clothes for Davey and I thought what better time to introduce you to the excitement of shopping in a busy mall with a small child in tow!"

"Oh joy!" was Tony's less than happy reply. He didn't relish a trip to the mall on a rainy Saturday evening, but then, why not? The afternoon had been a great success and he was feeling much more confident about coping with his new responsibilities.

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It was early evening when Gibbs dropped Tony and Davey off at the front entrance to the local mall in Georgetown to avoid them all getting wet and then went in search of a parking space. As he made his way up and down the rows of cars, slowly getting further and further from the building, he was beginning to regret his rash decision to go shopping at the weekend. After all, he'd already contacted the Director to apprise him of the situation and had been told he and Tony could take the following week off. Midweek shopping would have been a much better idea, when work and school obligations considerably cut down on the crowds.

Half a row back, Louie Russo tracked Gibbs' progress, muttering unhappily to himself. Joe and Danny had followed the kid and the younger man into the mall where it was warm and dry and what did he get to do? Stay in the damned car - again! Joe Romano didn't have the cojones to make the big decisions; he hadn't been able to reach the boss so as far as he was concerned, the last order stood – watch and wait. His only concession had been that if an opportunity to grab the boy presented itself and they could get away clean, they had a go. Louie was pretty sure if he could just get inside, he'd manage it somehow. Anything was better than spending another night out in this god-awful weather.

Just up ahead, Gibbs finally managed to slip into a parking space and slowly jogged back to the mall. By the time he dodged through the main entrance Tony was looking decidedly spooked. He was standing protectively between Davey and the milling throng, his eyes darting everywhere.

"You okay, DiNozzo?"

"You ever heard the phrase 'stop the world, I wanna get off'?" Tony asked with a rueful smile, relaxing slightly at the older man's arrival. "I think the rain's made shopping the activity of choice today. Maybe we should come back when it's a little quieter."

"Nah, we're here now, might as well make the best of it," Gibbs decided. "Besides, we'll be done before you know it." He swung Davey up into his arms and set off with a purposeful step, Tony trailing along behind him.

Gibbs viewed any shopping trip like an incursion into enemy territory; ensure good intel, have clear objectives, achieve the mission and withdraw swiftly. They entered Sears at a quarter after six and were back out in the main walkway by six-thirty. In that time, Davey became the proud owner of a blue duffel coat, red Wellington boots, two pairs of sneakers, a couple of pairs of 'Toy Story' pyjamas, a dozen assorted tee-shirts, four sweaters, three pairs of denim jeans, two pairs of chinos and four pairs of shorts in anticipation of the warmer weather to come. The child in question looked a little shell-shocked, as did his older brother who was used to spending more time than that choosing his breakfast buritto.

Gibbs had endured Tony's less than complimentary remarks about the quality of the clothes and their lack of style without rising to the bait. He'd just pointed out that the quality was fine and that Davey was only three and would no doubt be growing like a weed so anything more expensive would be a waste of good money. Besides, kids needed to be able to enjoy playing without worrying about getting dirty.

"I'll take these back to the car and then we can grab something to eat," Gibbs suggested as he spotted the food court at the far end of the walkway. "I don't really want to have to start cooking when we get back, do you?"

"Good idea," Tony agreed readily. "I spotted a DVD store near there and I thought Davey and I might be able to pick up another movie for tonight's entertainment."

Gibbs gave Tony a half grin and headed back out to the parking lot. Trust Tony to find an excuse to add another title to his collection.

As he stepped outside Gibbs was relieved to see that the rain had finally stopped and the temperature had risen slightly. He weaved in and out of the parked cars and by the time he reached his own, he found he still had a slight smile on his face. All in all, the day had been very successful. The popcorn making and subsequent movie session had both helped to break the ice so to speak. Tony and Davey were much more relaxed in each others' company and Gibbs was looking forward to enjoying a pleasant meal and then kicking back for the rest of the evening with whatever gem Tony decided to purchase at the DVD store.

Just as he closed the trunk of the car and turned to return to the mall, his cell phone rang. He looked down at the display where the caller was identified as 'DiNozzo'. Inexplicably Gibbs' gut lurched in dread as he flipped the cell open to answer the call.

Immediately Tony's panicked voice practically screamed in his ear, "Gibbs! I've lost Davey!"


	7. Chapter 7

Tony clutched the cell phone to his ear like it was a lifeline, his knuckles turning white with the force of his grip. "I swear Boss, Davey was right next to me! I only looked away for a second and when I looked back he was just - gone!"

"Calm down, DiNozzo! Focus!" Gibbs barked with all the authority he could muster. Tony's voice had a breathless quality to it that suggested he was barely holding it together. His own heart was pounding wildly in his chest, but losing it was not an option. He needed to get DiNozzo back on track and fast. "You're head back on straight now?"

"Yeah Boss, sorry," Tony replied almost meekly, audibly drawing in a couple of shuddering breaths in an attempt to recover his equilibrium.

"Where are you? Are you still in the DVD store?"

"No, we were back out in the main walkway," Tony replied, desperately trying to rein in the urge to run around aimlessly in the hope of spotting his brother. It was only the image of himself acting like a headless chicken that kept him stationary, although his eyes continually strained to exceed their natural range. What was the use of twenty-ten vision when there were too many moronic shoppers obstructing his view!

Tony fleetingly considered drawing his weapon and demanding everyone hit the deck when the public address system announced, "Would Mr Tony DiNozzo please make his way to the Information Point on level two where his brother is waiting for him."

"Oh thank God!" Tony breathed in relief. "Boss..."

"I heard, DiNozzo. I'll be there as soon as I can!" Gibbs barked, abruptly ending the call.

Tony stood there for a couple of seconds just staring at his cell phone, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. He suddenly snapped it closed and after returning it to his pocket, started weaving his way through the crowds to make it to the elevators. Although he felt like he was walking through loose sand and taking one step forward and two steps back, he finally made it to the designated area.

"I'm Tony DiNozzo. Is my brother okay?" he asked anxiously, addressing the silver-haired woman behind the information desk.

"Yes, yes he's fine," she assured him kindly. "I'd just like a word with you before we go get him, if you don't mind."

"Look, I know I screwed up," Tony admitted running a shaking hand through his hair. "I'm really not used to this and I only turned my back for a few seconds and...and...he'd disappeared!"

The woman smiled sympathetically at the panicked young man and patted his arm comfortingly. "I'm Barbara Drayton, and no-one's blaming you honey. Even the most experienced of parents has lost track of a curious child at one time or another. Little ones get quite single-minded when something piques their interest and good sense seems to go out of the window." She gave a little chuckle and continued, "If I had a dollar for every parent and child we've reunited over the years, I'd be retired and living in a condo in Venice Beach!"

Tony offered her a wan smile, too keyed up to do more but appreciating her attempts to put him more at ease non-the-less.

"What I wanted to say was, go easy on the little fella," Barbara explained gently. "Some adults tend to express their relief through angry words and I try to give them time to calm down before they're reunited. David did everything right after realising he was lost. He went into the nearest store and asked if the assistant could help him find you. She contacted us and we were able to make the announcement over the PA system. You have a very level-headed little brother Mr DiNozzo. It can sometimes take much longer to find a child of David's age."

Much longer? Tony looked appalled at the idea. He checked his watch and found that barely fifteen minutes had past since he'd realised his brother was missing. Fifteen minutes that had felt like an eternity!

Barbara gave the young man an assessing look and trusting he was not the type to lash out in anger, led him into a small side office. As they entered, Tony could see Davey sitting on a chair swinging his small legs backwards and forwards. The boy looked up at him apprehensively and quickly jumped to his feet.

"Hey buddy," Tony said quietly, walking over and crouching down beside him. "I'm so sorry I lost you."

A look of confusion spread across Davey's face. "But I lost you!" he insisted. "I just wanted to see..."

"See what buddy?" Tony prompted as the little boy dropped his head and started to fidget.

"Apparently he saw a photo frame in one of the store windows and got distracted," Barbara explained when Davey made no effort to reply. "We were chatting while we were waiting for you to arrive and David was telling me about a very special picture he has and how the original frame got broken. It seems the one he saw in the store would be a perfect replacement."

"Well, lets go buy it before we head home shall we?" Gibbs chimed in, having slipped silently inside the office just in time to hear Barbara's explanation.

"Really?" Davey asked half hopefully and half in trepidation. His eyes were looking decidedly red and watery and his bottom lip quivered dangerously as tears threatened to fall.

"Of course," Gibbs confirmed with a reassuring smile. "I don't know about you, but I think your brother could really do with a big hug right about now," he suggested. "He was really scared there for a while."

"You too?" Davey asked, looking at his brother through lowered lashes.

"I sure was," Tony agreed quietly. "Do you think you could manage an extra special big hug?"

Davey nodded solemnly and spread his arms wide. Tony swept him up, hugging him tightly and let the relief flow through him to soothe his shredded nerves.

"Hey, how about sharing the love, huh?" Gibbs asked, putting his own arms around the two brothers. One hand stole under the collar of Davey's shirt and he began to tickle; the little boy's quiet giggles helping to further lighten the mood.

After offering their grateful thanks to Barbara, they took their leave and with a quick detour to purchase the photo frame that had caused all the trouble, the group finally headed back to the car. Any thoughts of enjoying a meal at the food court had been abandoned in preference for picking up take-out and returning home to the safety of the apartment. Davey hugged his new purchase close to his chest as Tony carried him safely in his arms, unwilling to let go just yet.

By the time they'd arrived home and eaten the take-out it was approaching eight o'clock, so it was decided watching 'Toy Story 2' would have to wait until the following evening. Gibbs had offered to take Davey up to bed whilst Tony dealt with cleaning up and he was busy reading 'The Three Little Pigs' to the little boy when Tony was drawn to the bedroom by muffled laughter drifting down the hallway.

As he pushed open the door, Gibbs was saying, "'Little pig, little pig, let me in,' a fluffy lamb outside the house of straw called out,"

"Boss!" Davey giggled, making Gibbs smile at the way the young boy had adopted his older brother's way of addressing him. "It's not a baa lamb! It's a big bad woof!"

"It is?" Gibbs asked uncertainly. "Are you sure, because I thought it was a cute, fluffy lamb."

"Uh, uh," Davey insisted, shaking his head emphatically and pointing at the illustration in the book. "It's a big bad woof an' he's gonna huff 'n' puff!"

"Ah, now I remember," Gibbs agreed. "The big bad wolf is going to huff and puff and cool down the porridge for the little pig, right?"

Davey screwed his face up in concentration and gave Boss a suspicious sideways stare.

"Um, I don't..." he began uncertainly and Tony swore he could see cogs whirring behind those expressive little eyes before more giggles escaped. "Gold-e-locks and the bears, Boss!" he cried, eyes alight with delight. "You mixed it!"

"I don't know..." Gibbs replied with a dubious look, "I seem to remember porridge comes into it somewhere. What do you think DiNozzo?" he asked beckoning Tony into the room and patting the bed where he was stretched out next to Davey.

"Sorry, but I have to say the kid's right, Boss," Tony said coming to perch on the side of the bed and shaking his head apologetically. "I'm pretty sure the porridge belonged to the three bears."

"Oh, okay then," Gibbs conceded, feigning disappointment before chuckling and suggesting, "Guess you're going to have to help me with this story huh?"

"Sure I can help. I can!" Davey replied confidently, accepting the book when Gibbs handed it to him.

"Uh, Boss, I thought the point of a bedtime story was to spend some quality time together and unwind before sleeping," Tony commented wryly, gesturing at the hyper young boy currently bouncing around on the bed.

Gibbs looked on with a satisfied smile on his face and gave Tony a wink and a little shrug, thankful that the trauma from earlier seemed to have been forgotten.

Tony tried to look stern but he wasn't up to the task and couldn't help the answering grin that spread across his face. Bedtimes sure were going to be different from now on.

Outside the apartment building, Louie Russo was way beyond pissed. Living on caffeine and catnaps was seriously messing with his head and Joe's admission that they'd missed a golden opportunity to snatch the kid that evening at the mall was the final straw. How many times was he going to let his resolve to end this evaporate with the coming of dawn? When Danny relieved him in the morning he was going to get some rest then get it over with. Maybe he'd boost a car...

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Abby had decided to skip church the next morning and arrived at Tony's apartment bright and early, eager to actually meet his mini-me. She was an instant hit with the most junior DiNozzo, who seemed fascinated by her and was proudly parading around showing off his new 'Toy Story' pyjamas which he'd happily proclaimed to be, "snuggly!"

Tony looked on in amazement as his younger brother dragged his new Aunty Abby to check out his bedroom. The solemn little boy he'd been introduced to in Warren Edmonds' office on Friday, with his formal manner and guarded emotions, seemed to have disappeared to be replaced by a relaxed and friendly child. Was it possible that he'd misjudged his father and the man, who'd been found wanting in his parenting skills where his first-born was concerned, had done better the second time around?

Abby broke through his musings when she strode back into the living room and declared, "Tony, we have to do something about Davey's room! Neutral colours are fine for adults with no sense of adventure, but it just won't hack it for my honorary nephew!"

"Okay Abs, as long as we set a few ground rules," Tony agreed warily. When her only response was a knowing smirk, Tony insisted, "I'm serious Abby! Black is out of the question and absolutely no skulls, skeletons, coffins or vampires allowed! You don't want to scare the kid half to death do you?"

Abby looked affronted. "Tony, I would never do that! Children Davey's age respond better to bright colours and tactile textures." She suddenly got a wicked gleam in her eyes, "I'm thinking gold lame curtains and a deep red, fake fur comforter for starters. Add in a couple of retro lava lamps, some wall hangings with more primary colours and you'd have an awesome room. I can see it now! Or maybe we could go the tribal route a la Rock Hudson's apartment in 'Pillow Talk?'" she added slyly.

"Don't even joke about things like that Abs!" Tony exclaimed, a look of horror on his face. They'd caught the film on a late night movie channel a few months back after going out clubbing and had giggled and joked their way through it. However, Tony thought the grotesque and gaudy décor Doris Day's character had inflicted on Rock's apartment was more the stuff of nightmares than comedy.

"Who says I was joking?" she asked innocently before grinning again. "I might try it if you'd let me loose on your room, just to see your face!"

"I think I'll pass thanks," Tony replied, wondering if he should confiscate her spare key until she forgot about the idea.

"I'll be good, I promise," Abby assured him with a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. "This is for Davey and no-one's gonna mess with him while I'm around! Honestly Tony, I have a friend who does murals and I'm sure I can persuade him to come by and help out next weekend. We were supposed to be working with Habitat for Humanity but there's some kind of boundary dispute on the site and we can't start until it's resolved."

"Okay then, but I have the final say," Tony warned, "and if I find you've sneaked any fertility statues in here, Bert will never fart again."

"Whatever you say, Tony," Abby agreed sweetly, leaving him feeling more unnerved than reassured.

By eleven o'clock Ziva and McGee had also arrived, unable to contain their curiosity about Tony's new sibling any longer and although Davey was more reserved around them than with Abby, he seemed to be taking all the extra adult attention in his stride. Tony was just thankful that Ducky and Palmer had already made plans for the day as his spacious apartment felt much smaller with five adults and a child wandering around the place.

The others must have been feeling the lack of space too, because when Gibbs suggested a walk to the local park followed by lunch at a nearby diner, his idea was met with universal approval. Abby immediately volunteered herself and Ziva to get a still pyjama clad Davey ready for their excursion and she whisked them both away down the hallway.

Once in the bedroom Ziva started riffling through the little boy's suitcase. She easily found clean underwear and socks but clothing suitable for a trip to the park on a bright yet chilly Sunday morning proved more of a challenge. She frowned unhappily. "All these outfits are very formal, no?" she asked, seeking confirmation from Abby.

"I swear Ziva, if you even think of using the drapes to make play clothes, your days of watching 'The Sound of Music' are over!" Tony warned only half jokingly as he entered the room. He held up the bags from Sears. "Gibbs and I picked up some more casual stuff yesterday. We just didn't have time to unpack anything last night. Except the PJs," he amended with a grin, watching Abby trying to coax a very reluctant Davey to remove his 'snugglies'.

"We ready to go yet?" Gibbs queried, poking his head around the door and looking into the overcrowded bedroom.

"Davey's insisting he needs to keep his pyjamas on, Gibbs," Abby informed him with a wry smile.

"What, and miss out on wearing that neat new Buzz and Woody tee-shirt we bought yesterday?" Gibbs asked as if surprised. He hid a smile as Davey's eyes lit up with interest. "And what about the sneakers with the blue spangly stars? You have to get dressed before you can wear those."

The flurry of activity that followed had the adults looking on with fond smiles. Pyjamas were discarded, price labels were removed and new clothes donned in record time. The only dispute came when Gibbs insisted Davey wear an emerald green cable knit sweater that effectively hid Buzz and Woody from sight.

"They live all the way across the country in California where it's a lot warmer this time of the year," Gibbs informed Davey wisely. "You don't want them to be cold do you?"

"No!" Davey replied earnestly, hastily slipping the sweater on with Abby's help.

"Way to go, Boss-man," Abby observed amusedly as they all trooped out of the apartment block five minutes later.

"I do what I can," Gibbs replied with a half smile as she linked her arm through his.

It was a lovely morning and with birds singing and buds on the trees looking ready to burst into life, there was a real promise of spring in the air. The temperature had risen enough so that they were able to set a nice leisurely pace without feeling cold. Gibbs and Abby were leading the way enjoying a companionable silence, while McGee and Ziva followed immediately behind, talking quietly to each other. A little way back, Davey was skipping along happily next to his big brother.

Tony let out a sigh as he noticed the laces on Davey's left sneaker had come undone again. The ones on the right sneaker had stayed tightly tied since being put on, but the left ones stubbornly kept unfurling. Gibbs, ever the traditionalist, had dismissed the sneakers with Velcro straps out of hand and Tony had gone along with him, a decision he was now regretting. As he crouched down to re-tie the laces for the third time he was silently planning a secret trip to the nearest shoe store in the very near future.

Up ahead, McGee looked back when he noticed the two brothers had fallen behind. He frowned as a car further down the street started rapidly picking up speed, the gunning of its engine unnaturally loud. "Look out!" he shouted urgently as it suddenly swerved and mounted the side-walk, heading straight for Tony and Davey.

Tony looked up in surprise to see the dark Ford Mustang making a beeline right for them. He barely had time to scoop Davey up into his arms and make a frantic leap before the car was on top of them. He vaguely felt a jarring sensation and heard a sickening thud, but otherwise his focus was solely on his brother and attempting to protect the young boy as they began to fall. He made a last ditch effort to twist his body and thankfully succeeded in bearing the brunt of the impact with the ground. The landing was neither graceful nor soft and he would have screamed out in agony if there'd been any breath left in his lungs.

The sounds of outraged cries and rushing feet were followed by rapid gunshots and the grating of tortured metal as the car wrapped itself around a utility pole.

"Davey?" Tony managed to wheeze as he felt gentle hands release his grip on his little brother and move him away.

"He seems fine DiNozzo," Gibbs assured the injured man. "Abby's got him now, just relax and lie still. Ziva's called an ambulance, it's on its way.

Tony attempted to roll slightly to try and get a glimpse of his brother, but even that small movement sent agonising pains shooting through his abused body and consciousness fled.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Gibbs was standing surveying the scene where Tony DiNozzo and his younger brother had so nearly lost their lives. There was no doubt in his mind that the driver of the black Mustang had deliberately mounted the side-walk in an attempt to hit them, the only question now was - had it been a planned attack on his senior field agent or a spontaneous act from a disturbed individual?

Metro PD and a couple of ambulances had arrived within minutes of the 911 call, with a semi-conscious Tony and a badly shaken Davey being assessed and transported to the hospital very quickly thereafter. Although Gibbs desperately wanted to be the one to accompany them, he'd insisted Abby go along and in the circumstances, the EMTs had readily agreed. Ziva had followed on behind in one of the patrol cars in case a protection detail was needed.

The driver of the Mustang had not been so lucky. He was trapped in the mangled wreck and the fire department was rushing to cut him free as Gibbs looked on. Suddenly the flurry of activity around the car ceased and a few seconds later far less frantic efforts resumed. It appeared the driver hadn't made it and that meant they would have to use other methods to ascertain why Tony and his brother had been targeted. Just at that moment, Gibbs couldn't have cared less and only felt a deep sense of satisfaction at the outcome.

The senior agent's gut was screaming that it had been a deliberate attempt to kill DiNozzo, even before they'd confirmed the driver had no ID. On running the licence plate, they'd discovered the car had been reported stolen earlier that morning from an address only a few blocks from Tony's apartment.

Gibbs was grateful that Bernie Crocker, a Metro PD detective he'd worked with a number of times before, was in charge of the case. Over the years they'd developed a mutual respect for each other and they had an easy co-operation between them that avoided the usual pissing contest between law enforcement agencies over jurisdiction.

The detective finally jogged over to where Gibbs was standing and confirmed, “He didn't make it. I've told your guy he can take prints and a few shots of the body for identification purposes. The lad was going on about some fancy doohickey that can give you almost instant fingerprint identification and asked if he could borrow one of ours!” Crocker gave a snort of disbelief. “What planet is that guy living on Jethro? We barely have enough money in the budget to keep the coffee machines running!”

Gibbs gave the detective a lop-sided grin. “McGee's a good kid, he just gets a little caught up in his techno toys and forgets most of us still use the old ways.”

“Ain't that the truth!” Crocker agreed, matching the other man's grin. “We're just about ready to wrap things up here and I know you'll be anxious to go check on your people at the hospital so I've arranged a ride for you. Gadget boy says you're leaving him to handle the case and has given me his cell phone number. I'll keep him informed of any developments and I'll arrange to have a copy of the autopsy faxed over as soon as we get it.”

“Appreciate all your help Bernie,” Gibbs said waving in acknowledgement and climbing into the car Metro was providing as it slid to a stop next to him. McGee was more than capable of investigating the incident and the urge to go to the hospital was too strong to ignore now the field work had been completed.

By the time the corpse had been removed and placed in a body bag for transportation to the local morgue, a sizeable crowd had gathered around the crime scene tape. Two men, who could easily have been mistaken for regular churchgoers heading home, had seen the incident first hand and now that the spectacle was over, they began to weave their way through the throng to slip away.

When Joe and Danny had relieved Louie at seven that morning no way had they expected this outcome. The group from the apartment building had set off for a Sunday stroll just before lunch and they'd decided to follow on foot. Less than five minutes later an engine being gunned had caught their attention and looking back, they'd seen Louie sitting behind the wheel of what had to be a stolen car and speeding towards the DiNozzo kid. There was nothing they could do but watch with a growing sense of horror and sick fascination.

Once they found themselves alone down a quiet side street, Joe turned to the other man and hissed, “Dammit Danny, what was that crazy son of a bitch thinking? He was supposed to be getting some shut-eye not trying to mow down a kid and a fed for chrissakes - and in front of witnesses!” He repeatedly scrubbed his hands over his face before continuing in a plaintive tone, “I thought he was just blowing smoke when he was going on about taking the kid out. I never thought for a second he was serious. Christ, you said he was reliable!”

“C'mon Joe, he's my sister's kid. What was I supposed to say, huh? She begged me to sort him out when he had a coupla run-ins with the cops and I thought we could let him blow off some steam with us. He's just a little hot-headed that's all.”

“Hot-headed? You call what Louie just did hot-headed?” Joe asked incredulously. “The guy was a grade 'A' nut-job, absolutely certifiable! God knows what the boss is gonna do when he hears about this. We're in deep shit here Danny.”

Danny chewed on his bottom lip, seemingly deep in thought. “Do ya think he'll delay the plan?”

“We've been outta the loop for a coupla days now, it could already be too late to stop it. We need to think of a way to salvage something from all this before we try to get in touch again. Let me think,” he ordered, holding up his hands to silence Danny when he looked like he was about to say more.

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When Gibbs finally entered the hospital waiting room he was met by a sombre sight. Someone had obviously called Ducky as he was standing next to Abby with a comforting hand on her shoulder. Davey was sitting on the young woman's lap, curled up tight against her body and Ziva was prowling up and down like a caged panther looking like she'd kill anyone who approached her.

“Any news?” Gibbs asked quietly, reluctant to disturb the silence.

Davey's head came up immediately and he practically launched himself at the man. Thankfully Gibbs' quick reflexes didn't let him down and he scooped the young boy into his arms securely and held on tight.

“Hey there kiddo, they check you out?” Gibbs asked gently, lifting Davey's head up to get a proper look at him. The small face was deathly pale except for a few minor scrapes and a couple of bruises. Davey managed a jerky nod before burrowing impossibly closer and tucking his head under Gibbs' chin.

“Davey doesn't really want to speak at the moment Boss-man, but that's okay,” Abby informed him whilst rubbing the child's back comfortingly. “He's been checked out and the doctor says he's fine. He just needs a little time to come around, that's all.”

Gibbs gave her a grateful nod and then turned his attention to their medical examiner. “Have you managed to find out anything, Duck?”

“Tony's still being assessed in one of the trauma rooms, however they don't think he has any life-threatening injuries. They're just being thorough and I'm sure they will be here shortly to update us.”

Gibbs blew out a long breath in relief. He knew that Tony's athletic leap had prevented the car from hitting them head on, but it had been difficult to gauge just how much contact had been made and what kind of damage might have been inflicted.

“Didn't you have plans today?” he asked the older man to try and help alleviate some of the tension in the room.

“Ah yes, it was the Reston Bridge Club's annual knockout,” Ducky confirmed. “To be perfectly honest, I was rather relieved when I received Ziva's telephone call informing me of Tony's accident. You see, I was most unfortunate in the draw for partners and had to play with Gerhard Braun of all people. He's a delightful fellow in almost every respect, except for his notoriously rash bidding technique at Bridge.” He shook his head ruefully, “He left me trying to win a five No Trumps contract when he had nothing better in his hand than one solitary knave! Now I ask you, who in their right mind would leave their partner in such a predicament?”

Gibbs had to smile at his friend's righteous indignation despite the circumstances and was just about to offer his commiserations when the doctor chose that moment to make an appearance.

“I'm Doctor Phelps,” he said immediately by way of an introduction, “I was told I could find Special Agent Gibbs here?”

“That would be me,” Gibbs confirmed with a nod.

“Could I speak to you alone?” Phelps requested, gesturing to the door.

It's alright Doc, we're all friends of Tony's and he won't mind them hearing what you have to say. I'd only have to repeat what you tell me after you're through anyway. Besides, me and this little guy seem to be a package deal at the moment,” Gibbs pointed out, looking down to where Davey was attached to him like a limpet.

“Ah yes, I quite understand,” Phelps agreed, needing no further persuasion to continue. “Well, all of Agent DiNozzo's injuries were sustained on his left side. He has a broken ulna, a couple of bruised ribs and a sprained knee. There's also some fairly spectacular bruising to his left hip, which I suspect happened when the car clipped him as he tried to jump clear. The most serious injury in terms of recovery time is his shoulder, which was dislocated. We were able to re-situate it without surgery, however there is some damage to the surrounding tissue and he will need physical therapy to ensure he regains full range of motion.

“I know it all sounds a little over-whelming, however there is reason to be thankful. Agent DiNozzo's successful attempt to shield his brother from harm also placed his body in a position whereby his head was protected from further blunt force trauma. Having reviewed his notes, I must admit that I found the number of head injuries he has sustained in recent years even more shocking than the revelation that he's suffered from the plague!” he observed with a look of concern. “He'll need some strong medication until the pain is at a more tolerable level and plenty of rest.”

“Hear that kiddo? Your brother's gonna be just fine,” Gibbs assured the boy in his arms, giving him a comforting squeeze. “We'll just have to look after him really well when we get him home, huh?” He felt Davey loosen his grip slightly in obvious relief. “Can I see him?”

“I was hoping you'd come with me now, Agent Gibbs. Agent DiNozzo is refusing any but the most mild painkillers at the moment, although he's obviously in considerable pain.”

“Sure Doc,” Gibbs agreed instantly. With a little help, he managed to disentangle himself from Davey and hand him over to Abby. After promising to come straight back, he followed the other man down to the ER.

As they were walking along Gibbs asked, “How long will you need to keep him in?”

“Well, we'll assess him for the rest of the day and through the night to make sure we haven't missed anything. If he's able to get around tolerably well tomorrow I don't see a reason to keep him any longer. The only thing I need to impress upon you is the need for Agent DiNozzo to rest as much as possible, with the only exception being gentle exercises to help with his injuries once the swelling starts to subside.” The doctor finally stopped outside one of the trauma rooms and announced, “Here we are.”

With a nod of acknowledgement and a quick, “Thanks Doc,” Gibbs pushed open the door and slipped silently inside.

Tony lay on a gurney in the centre of the room looking more like a trussed up turkey than a federal agent. His left leg was elevated with bandages around the knee; there was heavy strapping on his shoulder and torso and a temporary cast on his forearm. The doctor hadn't been kidding about the spectacular bruising and the way Tony's eyes were squeezed tightly shut, it was obvious the mild medication he'd agreed to take was not up to the task of alleviating the intense pain.

“What's with the tough guy act DiNozzo?” Gibbs growled, drawing the younger man's attention to his presence.

“Boss,” Tony croaked, “how's Davey?”

“He's fine, just a few bumps and bruises. Now let them give you some decent drugs!” Gibbs insisted gruffly.

“No! You know how spaced-out I get on the good stuff and I need to stay focussed. Someone tried to kill me and nearly took my little brother out too!” Tony asserted a little too forcefully and he let out a pained groan.

Gibbs placed a gently restraining hand on Tony's chest to remind him that movement probably wasn't his best idea in the circumstance before explaining, “McGee should be back at headquarters by now. We've got a photo and prints and apparently, between them, the team has made a little project out of keeping your 'Enemies' file updated, so hopefully we'll get a hit fairly quickly. All you need to concentrate on is getting better.”

“I want a piece of that guy, Boss,” Tony insisted looking deadly serious. “He could have killed Davey.”

“Already taken care of Tony,” Gibbs assured the younger man grimly, thinking how close they'd come to losing both of the brothers. “McGee and I managed to get a few shots off and he died at the scene. Not sure if we hit him or whether the crash killed him and to be honest, I don't really care.” If the driver had survived, he'd have been a dead man walking.

“Need to see Davey,” Tony said, his misguided attempt to roll to his good side causing the pain to intensify and he clenched his teeth in an attempt to regain control.

“Dammit DiNozzo, I told you he's fine, now keep still and get some rest!” Gibbs barked hating to feel so helpless in the face of the younger man's suffering.

“'S not for me, for him,” Tony insisted struggling to catch his breath. “Needs to see I'm 'kay. Give me shot 'n' bring 'm. 'Kay?”

A nurse who'd been hovering near the door stepped forward immediately and injected something into the IV before her patient could change his mind. Within seconds Tony had started to relax and then a goofy grin appeared on his face. “Loopy juice is goooood!” he said, elongating the last word with a giggle.

“Demerol?” Gibbs asked with a quirk of his lips.

“Morphine,” the nurse answered with a soft smile as she started checking Tony's vitals. “It will help while we get him settled in his room.”

Gibbs turned his attention back to his senior field agent, who had a slightly manic look in his eyes and warned, “Behave yourself while I go get Davey. If I hear you've given the nurse any grief, there'll be hell to pay.”

“Moi?” Tony asked, his tone seeming to ask how the older man could even suggest such a thing and eliciting an amused look from his nurse.

By the time Gibbs returned with a pale and anxious Davey in his arms, the nurse was just preparing to leave.

“Agent DiNozzo's talking a mile a minute as the moment and not making a whole lot of sense,” she advised them with a grin as they entered. “He seems to have a bee in his bonnet about the benefits of Velcro over laces for some reason. Otherwise he's fine and I don't expect he'll be able to ignore the pull of the meds for much longer, so try and keep it brief.”

“No problem,” Gibbs concurred

“Hey Nurse Greta, this is my baby brother Davey! Davey boy, David Daniel, David Daniel DiNozzo, Triple 'D',”Tony gabbled as he spotted them in the doorway. “Did you know we have the same middle name? Guess it was a favourite with dear old Dad. Makes you a Triple D, Davey, and me? I'm ADD, and that makes me an Attention Deficit Disorder!” He giggled happily. “Can you imagine it, Boss?”

“At the moment, I don't think truer words have ever been spoken, DiNozzo,” Gibbs answered dryly.

“Doctor Mallard wasn't joking when he told us about Agent DiNozzo's reaction to pain medication was he?” Greta commented with a wry smile. “I'll ask the doctor if we can try a different dosage next time.”

“Good idea,” Gibbs agreed as she took her leave.

Davey was looking on with an awed expression on his face. “Is Tony okay?” he asked timidly.

“Yes, he's fine,” Gibbs assured him. “The lady just gave him some medicine to make him feel better and it worked really, really well.”

“Really well,” Tony echoed with another giggle, although the worst of the reaction seemed to be waning as his eyelids slipped to half-mast. He squinted up at Davey and sobered even more when he saw the scrapes and bruises on his brother's face. “I'm fine buddy, how are you? Got a bit banged about, huh?”

“Uh, huh,” Davey agreed, cuddling even further into Gibbs' comforting hold.

“Yeah, but he's one tough cookie, aren't ya? Just like your big brother,” Gibbs said jiggling the boy in his arms up and down a little. The praise caused Davey to smile shyly and he rested his head on Gibbs' shoulder, finally allowing himself to relax after the stresses of the day.

“Good job, DiNozzo,” Gibbs murmured as he ran his free hand through Tony's hair. He hadn't been sure it was such a good idea for Davey to see his brother like this but it seemed to have worked like a charm and the little boy was obviously reassured by the visit.

The injured man made a contented sigh and let his eyes close all the way, his breathing evening out into sleep within seconds.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Later that afternoon McGee stepped gratefully from the elevator outside Abby Sciuto's lab, thankful to be back on home soil at last. As the sole NCIS representative left at the crime scene he'd felt the weight of responsibility rest heavily on his shoulders; Gibbs was trusting him to find out what was going on and he didn't want to disappoint his boss. Even though Detective Crocker had been unexpectedly helpful and the rest of the Metro PD cops had grudgingly followed his example, the day had been very wearing. What had been missing was Tony, clowning around, delivering his own unique brand of stress relief.

As McGee entered the lab it seemed strange to listen to the low, melodic strains of a Bryan Adams ballad instead of the usual ear-splitting cacophony favoured by Abby. A young man dressed in a white lab coat was sitting at her computer, his straggly. shoulder-length blond hair a direct contrast to Abby's raven pigtails.

“Hey Dex, thanks for coming in at such short notice,” McGee said by way of a greeting.

“Tim, what the hell is going on, man!” Dexter Bowman, Abby's temporary stand-in demanded as he turned around to face the other man. “Abby barely takes her allotted vacation time and she's never ill, yet Director Vance suddenly calls me in person on a Sunday afternoon, which I have to say he's never done before, and asks if I can drop everything and get here asap because there's a situation. She's alright isn't she?” he asked, a look of serious concern on his face.

Dex, who looked more like an archetypal West Coast surfer dude than a forensics expert, had arrived over an hour earlier to be greeted by a deserted squad room. Taking the elevator, he'd discovered a dark lab and had barely had time to put on the lights, shrug out of his coat and start the laborious task of waking up Abby's 'babies' before a courier had delivered a box of evidence. The courier hadn't been able to shed any light on the matter and since no-one had deigned to drop by to brief him, he'd simply started to process the items in the box.

“She's fine Dex,” McGee assured him quietly. “We were out with the rest of the team this lunchtime when Tony got hit by a car. The others are with him at the hospital, but we think he was deliberately targeted, hence the investigation.” McGee chose not to mention Davey, thinking it would only complicate matters and he didn't want to waste time with explanations.

“Oh man, is he okay?” Dex asked with a worried frown. “Gibbs is gonna be pissed isn't he? Where is he? Is he on the warpath?” Dex both loved and hated filling in for Abby, probably in equal measure: He loved it because of the interesting cases he was presented with, but hated it because that meant dealing with one Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs. The man always made him feel like some wet behind the ears freshman who was clueless about the real world. His intense scrutiny over every detail had Dexter stammering and doubting himself, even though he had more post-graduate qualifications than you could shake a stick at.

McGee offered him a sympathetic smile. “Don't worry, Gibbs is at the hospital too and Tony's gonna be fine. He's a bit banged up and he'll be out of commission for a few weeks, but no permanent damage. Abby was really torn between helping to find out who did it and staying at the hospital, so Gibbs suggested getting you to cover for her.”

“Gibbs suggested me?” Dex croaked out in surprise.

“I can't say Gibbs' bark is worse than his bite because we all know that's not true, but I guess he reckons that if Abby trusts you enough to let you work here unsupervised then that's good enough for him,” McGee answered with a grin. “She's never even considered installing a nanny-cam to watch over her babies where you're concerned - although she did toy with the idea after the whole “Chip” incident a few years back,” he admitted thoughtfully.

“Yeah, he sounded like a seriously whacked out guy!” Dex replied with a grimace.

“What have you got for me anyway?” McGee asked, deciding they'd better get back on track before Gibbs did decide to make a personal appearance.

“Well, I've got the prints running through the usual databases and the facial recognition software's working on the photo. I've found identification is slower when its a picture of a dead body, so it might take a while,” Dex explained. “Ducky hasn't sent anything up yet and he didn't answer when I called him a little while ago.”

“Sorry, I should have let you know, he's at the hospital with the others,” McGee revealed apologetically. “Metro has the body, but the lead detective's a friend of Gibbs' and said we'd get a copy of the autopsy as soon as it's available.”

Before Dex could reply, there was a 'ding' as a fingerprint match came through. A mug shot showing a scowling, dark haired young man appeared next to a name and rap sheet.

“Hmm,” he murmured, “Louis George Russo, twenty-three, sealed juvenile record, one DUI and two aggravated assault charges as an adult. Resident of Queens NY. No known military, gang or organised crime affiliations.” He exchanged a puzzled look with McGee as they both read through the details that the assaults had been dealt with as misdemeanours, even though both victims had suffered extensive injuries.

McGee scowled darkly. The only explanation he could think of was that Russo had some powerful friends somewhere. However, uppermost in his mind was what possible connection there could be between this young thug and Tony.

“Can you send this up to my computer?” he asked, still frowning. “It looks like I'm gonna have to do some digging to find out what's going on.”

“Sure Tim, no probs,” Dex agreed amiably. “Just keep me in the loop, okay?”

“Will do,” McGee confirmed with a quick nod as he headed out of the door.

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The insistent ringing of a phone awoke Gibbs just after six the next morning. He quickly glanced over to where Davey lay on an old foldaway bed in the corner of the bedroom. The poor kid had been put through the wringer the day before and was obviously exhausted because he didn't even stir. Abby was in the spare room down the hall and Ziva had opted to sleep on the sofa, no doubt with her weapon under the pillow. Gibbs felt safer on home ground when there was an unknown threat looming and had insisted they all stay at his house.

Davey wasn't the only one suffering from the effects of a long, exhausting and ultimately frustrating day Gibbs thought, letting out a groan as he rolled over to grab the phone. McGee had managed to identify the driver, but he couldn't find a reason for Russo to be in DC, nor a reason why he would want to hurt Tony. The last time he'd spoken to his agent he'd been seeking permission to have the guy's juvenile records unsealed to see if there was a connection with Tony's time as a cop.

He finally managed to grab the receiver and bark, “Gibbs!” at the unfortunate caller.

“Hey Boss, how's it going?” Tony asked, far too cheerfully for someone who'd been side-swiped by a car the day before.

“DiNozzo, shouldn't you be asleep right now?” Gibbs grumbled, getting out of bed and heading for the door.

“I just wanted to make sure you remember to get Abby to help Davey with his photo today. Oh, and don't forget to contact Warren Edmonds about Maria, okay?”

“C'mon Tony, surely this can wait for a few days?” Gibbs suggested reasonably, leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

There was silence at the other end of the line for a few seconds. Finally Tony spoke up, a desperate edge to his tone, “Please Boss, it's important. I promised.”

Gibbs once again silently cursed Senior for his habit of making casual promises to his son only to conveniently forget them later. Pie crust promises his own father called them - easily made and easily broken. It looked like Tony had no intention of letting that happen where his little brother was concerned.

“Okay, don't worry about it DiNozzo,” Gibbs assured the younger man. “We'll make a detour to the Navy Yard before heading over to pick you up this afternoon, that's if the doctor signs off on you leaving.”

“Thanks Boss,” Tony replied with a heartfelt sigh of satisfaction. “They'll let me go, no problem. I'm fine now.” There followed some urgent whispering on Tony's end and then he continued, “Gotta go now, they said I could only have a couple of minutes on the phone.” More whispering could be heard and then a different voice came on the line.

“Hello, Agent Gibbs? I understand you're Agent DiNozzo's boss?”

“Yes,” Gibbs answered warily. “Is there a problem, um....”

“Nurse Jeffries,” the woman supplied, responding to Gibbs' prompt. “I'm afraid Tony has had a restless night worrying about his brother and has refused help to sleep. The agreement was that if he was allowed to make one phone call he'd take his medication and now he's trying to welch on the deal.”

Gibbs sighed unhappily. Tony's habit of ignoring his physical injuries and trying to carry on regardless was pushing the senior agent's already frayed patience to the limit on this occasion. “Would you hand the receiver back to him please,” he asked the nurse politely. He waited until she'd complied before letting Tony have it with both barrels. “DiNozzo, take the damned drugs, or so help me I will make sure you have a concussion when I get there and if you're not capable of making sensible decisions when it comes to your own treatment, I'll have Edmonds draw up papers to contest your competency when I speak to him! A few well chosen words to a friendly judge and we could have you in a padded room before you know what's hit you! Do you hear me?”

“Got it Boss,” Tony acknowledged meekly, his voice losing the false cheer and sounding tired and strained.

There was another short burst of whispering on the other end of the line and then the nurse commented admiringly, “Nicely done Agent Gibbs, I like your style. Tony seems to have seen the error of his ways.”

“Just doing my job ma'am,” Gibbs replied gravely. “Tell the idiot I'll be there after lunch and if he's got his marching orders he'd better be fit to travel.”

“I'd be glad to,” she assured him.

ncisNCISncis

Once everyone was up, dressed and fed at Gibbs' house, Ziva set off to the hospital to relieve the agent assigned to guard Tony overnight and the rest of them made it to the Navy Yard by nine.

Although Davey was still tired and a little subdued, the prospect of picking Tony up from the hospital that afternoon seemed to have reassured him that everything was going to be fine and once down in the lab, he soon became mesmerised by all the whirring, buzzing and beeping machines. Abby made a big show of scanning his photo into the computer and he sat on her knee, eyes glued to the monitor whilst she worked her magic on the damaged image.

Gibbs looked on with an affectionate smile when she announced she'd finished and pressed the button to print out the new and improved photo with a flourish. She stood Davey on a chair to let him watch and he peered apprehensively at the printer until the picture began to appear and then he was suddenly bouncing on his toes in eager excitement.

“It's fixted! It's fixted!” he shouted gleefully, clapping his hands together.

“It sure is, kiddo,” Gibbs agreed, grinning at the little boy's enthusiasm. “You wait here with Abby until the photo is dry and then you can put it in your new frame, okay? I just need to go sort a few things out and then she can bring you upstairs so you can see where Tony and the rest of the team work.”

“Uh, huh,” Davey agreed happily, carefully climbing off the chair and then rushing over to give one of Gibbs' legs a quick hug before running back to the printer. When he lifted his arms up to Abby, she gently placed him back onto the chair so that he could enjoy the apparently enthralling process of watching his photo dry.

Gibbs was still smiling a few minutes later as he emerged from the elevator and headed into the squad room. Unfortunately it only took one look at McGee's grim expression to put paid to his good humour. He strode towards his desk, placed a coffee next to his computer and turned to face his agent.

“You look like you've got bad news,” he observed. “C'mon out with it!”

“Ah, Boss, Agent Nielson just rang,” McGee admitted hesitantly. “Looks like Carmine Buchetta has gone to ground. No-one's seen or heard from him since the day before Tony's dad was killed. He's still their prime suspect and they're following a few leads but Nielson wanted to let us know, kind of a courtesy between agencies thing.”

Gibbs harrumphed sceptically and asked, “What have you been able to dig up on the driver?”

McGee clicked the remote in his hand and brought a picture of Russo up on the plasma above his desk. “Director Vance managed to pulls some strings and rush through an order to unseal Russo's juvenile records, but there's nothing there except a couple of shoplifting charges and a few mentions of bullying and the like. No links to any of the cities where Tony worked as a cop and I can't find any evidence that anyone on our watch list hired Russo to settle their score for them.”

“That man is a bad man,” Davey piped up behind them. “He made father shout.” Abby had suggested they sneak up on the two men and make them jump and the little boy had happily agreed but as they'd crept closer he'd seen the image of Russo on the plasma. Now he looked pale and scared.

“Do you know the bad man Davey?” Gibbs asked gently.

“Uh, huh,” Davey admitted as he flushed a deep shade of crimson and his head dropped so he was staring at the floor. Small feet shuffled nervously.

“C'mon Davey, you're not in any trouble but we need to know because he's the man who, um, you know, hurt Tony,” McGee cajoled.

“Wasn't 'posed to be there,” Davey whispered guiltily. He risked a peep through his lashes at McGee and was relieved to see only a look of encouragement on the man's face. “Maria went away and father went away after and then he came back. I wanted Maria to come back too so I sneakted out of bed to ask....”

“And you saw this man with your father?” Gibbs prompted, pointing again at the man on the screen. “Are you sure?”

“Uh, huh,” Davey confirmed, nodding emphatically before giving an involuntary shudder and adding, “He was with the chicken man.”

McGee and Gibbs exchanged puzzled glances. “The chicken man?”

“The chicken man was the baddest bad man! The fat butcher man said so!” Davey insisted breathlessly. “He was nasty.”

Who was nasty? The bad man, the chicken man or the fat butcher man? God this sounded like the start of some stupid joke DiNozzo would find funny. Gibbs could feel a headache building behind his eyes and rubbed them vigorously, trying his best to hold in a sigh of frustration. Davey was very articulate for his age and had obviously spent most of his young life surrounded by adults rather than children, however his understanding of the events going on around him was still that of a three year old boy.

Having said that, there was no denying Davey's somewhat garbled recollections had just identified the perp from the attempted hit and run the day before as being someone who had contact with Senior in the run up to his death. In all probability the two cases were linked.

“What are you doing McGee?” Gibbs asked as he noticed the other agent had moved to his computer and was typing away furiously.

“I'm trying to compile a list of meat and poultry suppliers and butchers in New York state. We can cross-reference them with known felons and anyone with mob links, then we can get Davey to see if he can identify any of them.”

“I think you're being too literal McGee,” Gibbs said, rolling his eyes at Davey in an attempt to lighten the mood. The little boy looked close to tears so Gibbs picked him up and gave him a reassuring hug. “Pull up a picture of the FBI's prime suspect in DiNozzo Senior's case and put it on the plasma, would you?”

McGee looked confused but complied anyway and within seconds a new photograph of a portly looking man in an expensively tailored suit appeared on the large screen.

“The butcher man!” Davey exclaimed in surprise. “That's the butcher man, Boss!”

McGee paled visibly and stuttered, “You...um...you don't think Davey saw his dad being killed by him do you?”

Gibbs didn't know whether to scowl or roll his eyes again. “Does he seem that traumatised to you McGee? Buchetta, butcher,” he pointed out, exaggerating the pronunciation to demonstrate the similarity between the two words. “Little kids often mix up similar words or use a word they know when they can't quite grasp a new one. This man is Carmine Buchetta, Davey. Is he the fat butcher man?”

“Uh,huh,” the little boy replied earnestly. “He said call him Uncle Carmine an' father was angry an' said no.”

McGee was looking uncomfortable and offered a contrite, “Sorry about the whole butcher and meat suppliers idea, Boss. I guess I went off half-cocked.”

“Don't worry about it Tim, it was a good idea based on the information you had to work with,” Gibbs assured him, taking in his rumpled appearance and the dark circles under his eyes. The young man was obviously running on fumes after working tirelessly since Tony had been injured. “We're all tired and this has been a big breakthrough. Contact Nielson, tell him what we've got and arrange a meeting for tomorrow. Also, let him know we'll be providing protection for Davey - there's no way I'm trusting the FBI with his safety. After that, go home and get some rest.”

“On it Boss!” McGee replied, his face lighting up at the prospect of getting some much needed sleep.

Gibbs handed Davey to Abby. “I'm gonna go update the director, get him to authorise a protection detail. I think we could all use a little down time. When I get back we'll head over to the hospital to pick up DiNozzo and Ziva.” He turned and made his way to the stairs when a shout from McGee stopped him.

“Boss, wait! I've got Sacks on the phone, they've just ruled out Buchetta as a suspect.”

“He have an airtight alibi or something?” Gibbs growled, striding back to the others.

“Or something,” McGee answered wryly. “They've just been informed that his wife found him dead in his study this morning. Single gunshot to his head, exactly like Tony's dad.”

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

Gibbs checked his watch and picked up the pace a little as he strode swiftly along a corridor at Georgetown University hospital, heading for his senior field agent's room. He was late. The quick update he'd envisaged delivering to Vance had turned into a very heated conference call in MTAC with the SecNav and Tobias Fornell, who over the years seemed to have become the FBI's go to guy when having to deal with Gibbs. The heated exchanges about the level of involvement NCIS should have in what was essentially an FBI investigation, who should be responsible for providing protection for Tony's little brother and the choice of safe house had raged on until lunchtime. Finally, the details had been thrashed out and gruff goodbyes exchanged, leaving Gibbs angry and dissatisfied.

He was just passing the nurses' station, when he picked up what sounded like a rapid yet muffled monologue coming from a room a little way ahead. DiNozzo, he thought with an amused half smile. Apparently his agent had taken the earlier dressing down to heart and agreed to be medicated for the journey home. Gibbs gave a cursory knock at the door and pushed it open to see the younger man was already dressed in a comfortable set of sweats, his left arm strapped securely across his body and a brace on his damaged knee. He was sitting in the obligatory wheelchair and looked delighted to see Gibbs.

“Hi, Boss!” Tony practically carolled. “Trussed up, doped up and ready to travel as ordered, Sir! Oops, he doesn't like being called sir ya know,” he confided in an exaggerated aside to the amused orderly waiting to wheel him to the exit. “Call him MISTER Tibbs, um Gibbs” he growled in a fair imitation of Sidney Poitier before pausing and looking perturbed. “Only we're not supposed to call him that either 'cause he's a super special agent guy an' not a mister. Guess we're gonna have to stick to boss, huh Boss?”

“I think that would be your safest bet, DiNozzo,” Gibbs agreed with a mock growl of his own.

“Where's the triple 'D'ster, Boss?” Tony asked, leaning forward and to the side in a precarious attempt to look past the older man and into the corridor. Just when it looked as if he was about to pitch head first onto the floor, the attentive orderly lunged forward, managing to steady him and pull him back. “I thought he could go on his first ride-along with me,” Tony continued, patting his knee clumsily with his good hand as if nothing had happened.

“Knowing you, no doubt there'll be other opportunities,” Gibbs observed wryly. “I wasn't sure what condition you'd be in and I didn't want him to see you in pain.”

“But you ordered me to get drugged up, Boss,” Tony pointed out plaintively.

“Like you follow my orders all the time!” Gibbs commented with a snort.

“I do Boss,” Tony replied earnestly. He paused for a few seconds as if deep in thought and then added, “Well except when you're gonna do something dangerous or get yourself blown up acourse. Did ya know Gibbs has been blown up twice?” he asked the orderly. “That was 'cause I wasn't with him to watch his six. Didn't happen when I was there and they were gonna blow up the country club, did it, huh?”

“You got you're discharge papers?” Gibbs cut in, hoping to change the subject.

“Sure and Special Agent, Ninja Chick's got my meds,” Tony burbled happily, pointing to where Ziva was holding a full paper bag. “Hey Boss, you'll never guess what Roy's called,” he said gesturing towards the orderly. He paused again and frowned. “Um, guess you kinda do now, huh?” Tony's grin reappeared and he exclaimed, “Well anyway...he's Roy Rogers! You know, as in the singing cowboy? Roy Rogers and Trigger?”

Just when Gibbs was beginning to fear DiNozzo might burst into song, a voice behind him asked, “Ready to go Mr DiNozzo?”

“Nurse Debbie! Long time no see! How are you?”

“I'm fine Tony, same as I was when you asked me five minutes ago,” she answered good-naturedly, offering a sympathetic smile to Gibbs. “The attending physician, Doctor Danvers, was hoping to find a painkiller Agent DiNozzo could tolerate without causing these manic episodes,” she confided quietly. “However, when he contacted Doctor Pitt over at Bethesda for a consult, they both decided that, as the most promising alternatives can cause respiratory complications, it would be safer to leave well alone given Tony's medical history.”

“Ah, I see,” Gibbs replied, with an understanding nod. “Thanks for all your help.”

“My pleasure,” she told him with a smile. “Feel better Tony.”

“Feeling mighty fine already, Nurse Debbie, mighty fine!” Tony assured her as the orderly started pushing him out of the door. “C'mon Roy, lets get the hell outta Dodge!”

Gibbs waved Ziva to one side as she made to follow. “We're going to an FBI safe house at this address, “ he informed her, handing over a slip of paper. At her look of surprise he admitted, “It was a compromise to ensure NCIS retained control of the protection detail. Abby and Davey are already there, with Agent Balboa's team taking first watch. I want you in charge of security outside. Anything you're not happy about and you contact me immediately, understand?”

“No one will get past me Gibbs,” Ziva vowed with a murderous glint in her eyes.

Gibbs inclined his head in acknowledgement and they turned to follow after the wheelchair, listening to Tony's thoughts on everything from the boring hospital décor to how the designer of hospital gowns was probably a closet Peeping Tom.

At last they emerged into the open air and after a little manoeuvring, managed to get Tony settled as comfortably as possible in the front seat of the car. After thanking the orderly and watching Ziva head over to her own vehicle, Gibbs slid into the driver's seat and started the engine.

“Really wanted to be a cowboy when I was a little kid - one with a white hat acourse,” Tony commented sleepily. “Not as white as Roy's...too much...goody two-shoes. Maybe like Randolph Scott...James Stewart...not perfect, but stand up guys....” As his voice faded away, he made a little huffing noise and was asleep in seconds, his head sliding to rest on the window of the passenger door.

“You may not have become a cowboy DiNozzo, but you're definitely one of the good guys,” Gibbs murmured affectionately as he pulled away from the kerb.

The early afternoon traffic was unusually heavy and Gibbs was grateful Tony had fallen asleep. He needed to concentrate and the younger man's constant chatter would have been an amusing yet unnecessary distraction. He weaved quickly through the traffic and defied anyone to follow him without revealing their presence; even so, he took an indirect route just to make sure and eventually pulled up outside a high-end apartment block in Crystal City a half hour later.

“DiNozzo, we're here,” Gibbs called, gently nudging his passenger.

After a few seconds and further urging, Tony managed to open decidedly bleary eyes and mutter a half coherent, “Huh?” He blinked rapidly, trying to bring his eyes into focus. When he succeeded he didn't recognise his surroundings. “Where are we?”

“Safe house,” was Gibbs' curt reply, exiting the car and quickly making his way around to the passenger door.

“Aw c'mon Boss! I just wanna go home and sleep in my own bed. The bad guy's dead, right?”

“Not my call DiNozzo!” Gibbs informed the younger man more sharply than he'd intended. “Besides, there's too many unanswered questions and you don't really want to put Davey in harm's way do you?”

“Yeah, well I've been thinking about that,” Tony replied morosely. “If I'm gonna be responsible for a kid, I don't know if I should still be out in the field – especially after what happened yesterday. If my job cost Davey his life, I think I'd eat my gun!”

Gibbs' gut lurched at Tony's frank admission. He didn't want to voice their fears about Davey being the intended target of the hit and run out there on the street, so he just said, “You're a damned fine field agent DiNozzo. Do you think you could hack it being tied to a desk all day and, more importantly, would McGee survive?”

“What do you mean? Probie's all grown up and ready to take on the world without me, Boss,” Tony observed proudly.

“I know that, DiNozzo, but he'd be a nervous wreck within a week wondering what pranks you were cooking up whenever we were out of the office,” Gibbs replied with a quirk of his lips.

Tony gave a half-hearted grin in return. “Yeah, I see what you mean. Would be kinda fun, though” he admitted.

“You don't have to make a decision just yet,” Gibbs pointed out reasonably. “You're in protective custody until we get to the bottom of this whole mess and even if we solve the case tomorrow, you're gonna be out of action for a couple of weeks.”

Tony nodded in agreement but still made no attempt to get out of the car.

“You planning on staying in there all night, DiNozzo?” Gibbs asked.

“Definitely considering it, Boss. I think everything seized up on the way over here,” he confided with a rueful look on his face. “It'd probably be less painful just to sit here.”

“You might be right, but it's a hell of a trip to the bathroom,” Gibbs quipped. “Besides,it's not every day you get to stay in a penthouse apartment with top of the line everything, including a state of the art entertainment system, or so I've been told.”

“Wow, how did you manage that?” Tony asked, grabbing Gibbs' proffered hand and attempting to swing his legs out of the car. This was going to hurt.

“Try not to tense up,” Gibbs advised, ignoring the question and easing the younger man forward slowly. He knew any mention of FBI involvement would not go down well.

Though Tony's shoulder and damaged knee hurt like a bad toothache, it proved to be his hip that caused the most pain and had him gritting his teeth and gasping with every step. The extensive bruising severely limited his range of motion and even though he leaned heavily on Gibbs and most of the journey was in the elevator, it still took a good ten minutes before he was propped up against the wall outside the top floor apartment.

“Dammit, we should've taken them up on the offer of a wheelchair!” Gibbs growled, more angry at himself than DiNozzo as he took in the exhaustion and pain practically radiating off the younger man.

“I'm fine,” Tony managed to choke out despite the slight trembling rippling through his body.

“Sure you are DiNozzo,” Gibbs snorted sarcastically, “and I'm the poster boy for easy-going bosses!”

“You are a great boss, Gibbs,” Abby insisted as she appeared at the door and caught his last comment. “Oh,Tony! Let's get you to bed. I've turned down the sheets and you can slide right on in there.” Tony's lack of a cheeky comeback increased her concern and she hovered around the two men, leading them into the nearest bedroom and watching anxiously as Gibbs settled DiNozzo onto the bed.

Tony took the painkillers he was offered without batting an eyelid and was fast asleep before his head had properly settled on his pillow; the pinched look on his face smoothed out and Gibbs finally allowed himself to relax as he closed the bedroom door.

ncisNCISncis

The next morning, Tony insisted on moving out into the lounge area to attend the meeting with the FBI agents. He'd taken his meds early to ensure any side-effects would have subsided by the time Sacks and Nielson arrived and Abby had fussed around, arranging every available pillow and cushion in the apartment on the sofa to support his injuries. When the phone rang and McGee announced the agents were on their way up, he was happily settled and watching the Cartoon Network with Davey snuggled up next to him.

“I hear someone tried to use you as a hood ornament yesterday, DiNozzo,” Sacks observed with an annoying smirk as soon as he entered the room with his partner.

“And I hear you couldn't even track down a suspect when he was lying dead in his own study, Slacks,” Tony drawled back, effortlessly riling the other man.

“Our ME says he's only been dead a day at most and it doesn't look like he was killed there!” Sacks replied defensively.

“Abby, could you go play with Davey in his room for a little while,” Gibbs asked mildly, gesturing to where the little boy was watching proceedings with wide, anxious eyes.

“Sure Boss-man,” she agreed, jumping up from where she'd been sitting and quickly ushering Davey into one of the bedrooms.

“Right gentlemen, let's get down to business shall we?” Gibbs suggested, gesturing to the seats arranged around the coffee table. “Bring us up to speed and then we'll see what other information David can remember.”

Nielson flipped open a file he'd brought with him and began, “Buchetta's wife last saw him alive on Wednesday. She said he'd been acting out of character for days. He was nervous and agitated, spending lots of time on the phone in his study. On Tuesday night over dinner, he alluded to some difficulties he was having with an associate and suggested she take the children and go visit relatives in Florida for a little while until the problems were resolved. He accompanied them to the airport the next morning and she spoke to him on the phone later that day to let him know they'd arrived safely. There was no contact after that and she became worried enough to fly home early this morning to check on her husband. When she entered the study, she found him dead on the floor.”

“It doesn't look like he was killed there because there wasn't enough blood,” Sacks interrupted. “There were marks on his body consistent with prolonged torture, but the cause of death was a single bullet to the brain.” He paused and stared haughtily around the room. “Now we've played nice as ordered, we'd prefer to take DiNozzo's brother over to the Hoover building to question him and have our own men take over his protection. He has information vital to our investigation and NCIS really has no excuse for being involved.”

“Over my dead body!” Tony replied bullishly, adrenalin coursing through his veins and allowing him to surge to his feet despite his injuries.

The two agents faced-off against each other, neither willing to back off until Gibbs stepped in as the voice of reason.

“The decision over David's protection has already been made by people more powerful than you Agent Sacks and he will remain the responsibility of NCIS until this whole mess is resolved,” he insisted in a tone that brooked no argument. “Agent McGee has brought recording equipment and I will be asking the questions without any interruptions from anyone else in this room, is that clear?”

Sacks scowled darkly, obviously wanting to contest the point, but in the face of an uncompromisingly steely glare from the older man, he finally acquiesced and gave a nod of agreement.

“Good. I'll just go get him,” Gibbs informed them. “Help yourselves to coffee,” he added, pointing to the machine on the reproduction sideboard at the back of the room.

McGee, who'd unobtrusively stepped next to Tony to support him as the adrenalin rush had begun to wane carefully guided him back onto the sofa. “Want me to get your pills?” he whispered in concern, taking in the grey cast to Tony's complexion and the pinched look around his eyes and mouth. “You look like you could do with them right about now.”

“I'd rather pull my own fingernails out with my teeth than give that bastard the satisfaction,” Tony ground out quietly. “Never show weakness in front of the enemy, Probie.” He managed a weak smile and added, “Could do with some water though, if you're offering.”

“Be right back,” McGee assured him, giving his good shoulder a comforting squeeze. Less than a minute later he was back with a glass of water and as he handed it over, he palmed Tony a couple of pills.

“McGee!” Tony hissed angrily.

“Just Tylenol, just to take the edge off, okay?” McGee assured him, moving slightly so that his friend was hidden from sight for a few seconds.

“Ah, Probie-san, you are becoming wise beyond your years,” Tony intoned with a slight inclination of his head that had McGee grinning.

Gibbs soon returned with Davey and deftly lead him back through his comments of the previous day before starting to gently probe for more information. They soon established that Buchetta had visited the DiNozzo mansion late one evening shortly before Senior's death and that an argument had occurred.

“They were shouting real loud,” Davey confided quietly. “The butcher man said father should help him because the chicken man was nasty and he was making something.”

“Can you remember what kind of something?” Gibbs pushed lightly, trying to hide his concern when it crossed his mind that the 'something' might be a bomb. He fervently hoped they weren't about to uncover a terrorist threat.

Davey screwed up his face in thought, tipping his head to the side and chewing his bottom lip. Suddenly his face lit up and he exclaimed, “A move! That's what he said, he was making a move!” He looked puzzled for a moment and asked, “What's a move, Boss?”

Gibbs smiled fondly at the little boy, lifted him into his arms and gave him a quick kiss on the forehead. “Making a move just means you're going to do something kiddo, that's all.”

“Oh, well the butcher man said the chicken man was gonna be bad,” Davey said with a worried frown. “Father said no to helping and that the butcher man had to go and he did but he was real mad.”

“Davey, did the chicken man ever see you?”

“Uh, huh,”Davey admitted in a whisper. “He was scary and shouted at father.”

“Can you remember when that was or what he said?”

“A long time ago. After Maria went away,” he answered sadly. “He said father was bad to like the butcher man after what he did, but he didn't say what it was.”

“Chickens and rooster,” Tony murmured sleepily from the sofa. “Roosters!” he repeated, suddenly seeming much more alert and trying to rise. “Ow! Ow! Triple ow! You'd think I'd have learned my lesson the first time I did that,” he complained to no one in particular as he gingerly lay back down.

“DiNozzo, just what is it you think you've figured out,” Gibbs demanded, anger covering his concern.

“A rooster is a chicken, right? And the Italian for rooster is Gallo,” Tony explained with a grin. “Could be Davey's chicken man.”

“Carmine Buchetta's old boss! Is there any chance he's not really dead after all?” McGee asked, looking over at Nielson who was feverishly sorting through some photographs in the folder in front of him.

“Ah, hah!” the FBI agent exclaimed as he found what he was looking for and held it up so everyone could see. “Salvatore was definitely murdered by Buchetta, no doubt about it, but this man has been making a name for himself in Nevada the last couple of years. Gentlemen, meet Giovanni Gallo, Salvatore's son and heir.” He looked over to Davey and asked, “Is this the chicken man?” When the little boy gave a frightened nod, Nielson continued, “There've been rumours circulating for the last few months about a ruthless new player in town horning in on Buchetta's business. From what we've learned today, I'd say there's a pretty good chance it's Giovanni Gallo, returning to reclaim his birthright and avenge his father's death.”

“What, and my father somehow got caught up in it?” Tony asked, his tone incredulous.

“Looks that way,” Nielson confirmed grimly, “If Giovanni has invoked a blood feud against his enemies and he blamed your father for something, it gives us a motive for the murder and explains why you and your brother were targeted yesterday.”

“It also means you're both still in danger until we catch the bastard,” Gibbs observed angrily.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

Gibbs almost bit his tongue as soon as the words were out of his mouth. What was he thinking admitting out loud that Tony and his little brother were still in danger from the scary 'chicken man' when Davey was still in the room? The child was looking confused and afraid as he cuddled impossibly closer to Tony, who seemed to have noticed his reaction at almost the same time. He gave the boy a gentle smile and a reassuring little squeeze with his good arm.

"Don't worry buddy, we've got the boss and the rest of the team on our side and no-one messes with us and gets away with it," he stated with conviction, looking over to Gibbs for support.

"You'd better believe it, kiddo," Gibbs confirmed confidently. "We eat guys like that for breakfast at NCIS and we'll always have your six."

"That means we'll always take care of you and make sure you're safe, okay?" Tony whispered conspiratorially. "That's what we do."

Davey looked around at all the faces smiling reassuringly at him. "Okay," he replied a little shakily, managing a weak smile of his own.

"And talking about eating," Tony commented, rubbing his stomach theatrically, "what's an injured guy gotta do to get fed around here? Abs why don't you and Davey check out the kitchen and see what's on offer while we finish up here, huh?"

"DiNozzo, your appetite is the stuff of legend!" Gibbs observed with an amused half smile. "I suppose you'll be wanting dessert too?" When Tony grinned and rolled his eyes at Davey, Gibbs conceded, "Yeah, I get it, that was a stupid question. Okay Abby, see what there is and we'll send someone out for anything else you might need. I'm thinking banana splits would be a nice treat after putting up with this boring meeting for so long."

Davey gave an uncertain frown. Split bananas didn't sound like much of a treat to him.

"That's a great idea Boss-man!" Abby agreed at once, taking the hint that little ears really didn't need to hear any more of the increasingly disturbing conversation. "C'mon Davey, lets go see what we've got! We'll need bananas, ice-cream, whipping cream and maybe even some strawberries and chocolate sprinkles!"

Ice-cream and chocolate sprinkles? Now that sounded more like it! Davey nodded his head eagerly and happily distracted, jumped up to take Abby's hand.

"Then we can decide what you want to bring over from Tony's apartment so that we can make this place a little more homey, huh?" Abby suggested. "Clean clothes are a given," she said, wrinkling her nose as if smelling something bad. "You need to decide which of your toys you want sent over and maybe we could get some movies. What do you think?"

"Uh, huh," Davey replied, nodding enthusiastically before adding, "An' my snugglies!"

"Oh yes!" Abby agreed with equal enthusiasm. "We couldn't forget your snugglies!" She turned back to offer a reassuring smile to Tony and Gibbs, conveying the message that she'd keep the little boy occupied until they were finished.

As soon as she disappeared into the kitchen and the door closed, Tony voiced his scepticism at Nielson's earlier assertions. "Come on guys, do you really think we're dealing with an old-fashioned vendetta here? We're living in the twenty-first century for crying out loud!"

"To be honest, Giovanni only made it onto our radar because of his father and we don't know a whole hell of a lot about him," Nielson admitted. "Most of what we have is either hearsay or conjecture, but reading between the lines, I wouldn't rule anything out. It's common knowledge that Salvatore used his wife as a punching bag for years until she'd finally had enough and took little Gio back to Sicily with her to live with relatives when he was seven. The kid came to the States to visit his father every Summer but other than that we have nothing until he went to university.

"Yeah," Sack interrupted again, pulling the file closer to himself and scanning down the page of information about Gallo junior. "Choosing to study at the University of Messina's a dead giveway to his mindset if you ask me. The Mafia practically ran the place back then, using intimidation and violence to make people toe the line. They were even implicated in the murder of a lecturer in 1998, the year Gallo graduated."

Nielson glared at his partner and reclaimed the file. "There's no evidence Giovanni was involved in any of that, although it does suggest he was exposed to the worst excesses of the Mafia from an early age," he clarified. "He's obviously sending a message by killing your father and Buchetta in the same way his own father was murdered."

"Yes, I must agree with you there, Agent Nielson," Ducky observed thoughtfully. He'd been sitting quietly throughout the whole meeting assessing the information being shared until a preliminary profile started to form in his head. "The whole biblical eye for an eye, life for a life thing does suggest an unhealthy preoccupation with the old ways. Giovanni Gallo is obviously intelligent, well organised and out for revenge - a lethal combination that poses a significant threat to anyone he considers has wronged himself or his family."

Gibbs' eyes flashed with a fiery resolve. However confident he'd tried to appear in front of Davey, his gut was screaming of imminent danger and there was no way he was going to take a back seat in the investigation now. Jurisdictional concerns be damned, he'd do everything in his power to live up to his promise to keep the brothers safe.

"McGee, first off I want you to do some more digging on Russo," he ordered gruffly. "See if you can find any reason he'd have been recruited by this guy. I also want you to look further back and see if you can find any connection between Salvatore Gallo and Tony's father. Something Davey said has me wondering if they knew each other years back." He turned his attention to Nielson before continuing, "Looks like Gallo's somehow managed to expand his business into New York while keeping his identity a secret, so I think it's safe to assume he's got trusted associates running things for him there. I need you to check in with your colleagues in Nevada and see if they can offer the names of anyone they're aware of who has links to the city. It's possible information they already have could expose who's running the New York operation and blow this thing wide open."

"No problem," Nielson assured him, a zealous gleam in his eyes. "This could give us the break we've been waiting for! Buchetta may be out of the picture but if Gallo's intent on taking over his organisation we need to bring him down fast, especially if he proves to be as ruthless as you fear. He has no reason to suspect we know anything about what's going on and we have a golden opportunity to start moving before he has a chance to consolidate his position and cover his tracks!"

"Look Gibbs, this is our investigation," Sacks pointed out angrily. "We don't take orders from you and you need to..."

Nielson placed a restraining hand on Sacks' arm as he made to stand. "Relax Ron, Agent Gibbs is worried about one of his own and is simply offering extra manpower to help with our investigation," he soothed. "It benefits us all to resolve this situation as soon as possible. Right, Gibbs?"

Gibbs offered an enigmatic smile and a slight tilt of his head, which could have been interpreted any number of ways. If the FBI agents chose to take it as acquiescence, that wasn't his fault.

"Right then, as long as that's clear," Sacks blustered unhappily.

"I assume you'll let us know what you find out and we'll be in touch as soon as we have anything useful to share," Nielson assured Gibbs as he gathered his things and hurried Sacks out of the apartment.

Once they'd gone, Tony let out an explosive breath and said, "Thank God for that! How in the hell does Nielson put up with Slacks anyway? I'd be popping Prozac like candy after an hour!"

"Nah, one of you'd be dead before you had time to fill the prescription," McGee joked as he went over to the kitchen to let Abby know the coast was clear.

Lunch was a light-hearted affair after the strained atmosphere of the meeting and they were soon tucking in to cold cut sandwiches and salad and smiling at Davey's antics. He sat on a couple of cushions and tackled the meal with an absent-minded determination, his eyes resolutely glued to a large bowl in the centre of the table. It contained Abby's gloriously over the top version of a giant-sized banana split and even though the scoops of ice-cream were beginning to melt and the whole thing was decidedly lop-sided, it was obvious Davey had never seen anything like it. When he was finally given a portion and allowed to shake on his own chocolate sprinkle his face held an expression so exactly like his big brother's look of bliss when enjoying his favourite foods, it had the rest of the team laughing out loud.

After they'd all eaten, Ducky left to catch up on things at headquarters and Gibbs excused himself to call Warren Edmonds' office to see if he could find out more about the mysterious Maria. By the time he'd finished, McGee was busy working on the computer in the corner of the living room, Davey and Abby were back in the kitchen where she was showing him how to make salt dough and Tony was dozing fitfully on the sofa.

As soon as Tony heard Gibbs return he roused himself immediately and anxiously whispered, "Well?", as he glanced over to the open kitchen door to make sure Davey was out of earshot. "What did Edmonds say?"

"Relax Tony, she's not Davey's mom," Gibbs assured him, watching as the tension left Tony's face. "Warren said she applied for the position of nanny cum au-pair just before he was born. Your father asked for Warren and Claudia's help in choosing a suitable person to care for the baby and they used the law office as a venue to conduct the interviews."

"So they've met her?" Tony asked, his interest piqued now the threat of losing Davey to his biological mother faded to the background.

"Yes," Gibbs confirmed. "She's a young Italian woman who wanted to work in the States for a couple of years to improve her English. Apparently Claudia was very 'taken' with her and Warren thinks the love and care she provided is the main reason Davey's grown up to be so well adjusted."

"Wow, she must be something special if she managed to get Claudia's seal of approval," Tony mused thoughtfully.

"Yeah, Claudia's not the kind of person to fall for a slick interview technique," Gibbs agreed. "Unfortunately about a month before your father's visit here, your step-mother accused him of having an affair with Maria and gave him an ultimatum. He asked the girl to leave in a last ditch attempt to save his marriage, even though Warren is convinced the accusation wasn't true. Two weeks later, Phoebe moved out and divorce proceedings were started."

"Looks like Senior chose the wrong person to send away – again," Tony observed cryptically. When Gibbs gave him a questioning look he shrugged and explained, "I got shipped off to boarding school when my first step-mom accused me of being disrespectful and out of control when Dad wasn't around. Turned out the real reason she wanted me gone was so she could spend more quality time with the pool boy. Dad came home early from a business trip a few weeks later and found them doing the horizontal mambo in the gazebo." He frowned and slumped further into the sofa. "I kinda hoped Senior had changed and taken some time to get to know number two son - instead he put himself first right up until the end. I guess I shouldn't have expected anything different." He sighed deeply, a faraway look in his eyes. "Poor kid."

Gibbs silently agreed - and not just about Davey. He cleared his throat and said, "Warren's not sure where Maria went after being let go. He thinks she had an American boyfriend and he's gonna see if he can track her down. I thought it would be good for Davey if he got to at least speak to her again, maybe keep in touch if she's willing."

The grateful smile Tony gave him made Gibbs want to resurrect Senior just so he could shake some sense into the idiot.

"Man, this is so messed up," the younger man observed with a tired sigh. "Promise you'll knock some sense into me if I ever forget to put Davey first, okay?"

"Never gonna happen, DiNozzo," Gibbs assured him. "Don't forget, you stepped up to the plate as soon as you found out about his situation, regardless of how it was going to affect your own life." He smiled gently and decided to lighten the mood. "Now that you've mostly gotten over the blind panic of taking on a small kid and learned to relax a little, you're gonna do fine. Of course, I might have to get you to cut down on the junk food intake a little and give the kid a break on watching movie marathons every once in a while..."

"Yeah well it is kinda scary you know?" Tony admitted with a shaky laugh. "I can't believe how much I love the little guy and I've only known him a few days. I'd give my life to make sure he's okay."

"After Sunday's scare I think we all know that, but I'd prefer it if you'd stick around to see the kid grow up, are we clear?"

"I'll do my best, Boss," Tony agreed quickly. "He really is a pretty amazing little guy, you know? He's just taken all this crap in his stride and he's in there having fun and giggling away with Abby like he doesn't have a care in the world."

"The kid's as good-natured, brave and resilient as his older brother and I think he knows he's found some people who are gonna love him and take care of him whatever happens," Gibbs observed, his eyes conveying even more conviction than his words.

Tony broke the gaze, embarrassed by the sentiment and joked, "Hey, do you think Davey could make the Guinness Book of World Records for being the youngest kid to have a contract put out on him?"

"Nah, he's way too old," Gibbs replied with a straight face before his eyes twinkled and he added, "It's a good job Abby didn't hear you say that or she'd be ratting you out to Sister Rosita and the girls and you'd be looking at some serious Bible study time."

Tony looked at Gibbs totally puzzled. "Huh?"

"Herod had Jesus on his hit list before he was even born, DiNozzo," Gibbs explained with a smirk.

"Ah, good one, Gibbs," Tony acknowledged with a smile of his own.

"Tony! Boss! Look, we made stuff!" Davey shouted excitedly as he ran from the kitchen cradling a large blob of salt dough in his arms. "An' Abby says after we go shopping, we can make it coloured stuff!"

"Yeah? That's great kiddo," Gibbs said, looking suitably impressed at the greyish lump. "What are you going to do with it?"

"Abby says Timmy knows how to make rabbits an' pussy kittens an' whales even!" Davey informed them earnestly.

"Oh, Timmy does, does he?" Tony laughed. "Methinks Timmy could be in for some serious leg-pulling - what does Timmy think?"

McGee stood up from the computer and refused to be drawn by Tony's light-hearted baiting. "Oh, I don't know, DiNozzo, I'm a pretty mean modeller. Even if you had both hands, I'd probably wipe the floor with you."

"Oh, ho, a challenge!" Tony declared, accepting Gibbs' help to rise from the sofa and taking a seat at the table. "C'mon Davey, lets share out the dough and show Timmy what we can do!"

They set to work and after an enjoyable model-making session, a variety of animals had been produced. Although some of the items were more perfectly formed than others, in the end it didn't matter whose was the best because the light-hearted banter had helped to raise everyones' spirits. Once the dough animals had been put into the oven to bake, Gibbs managed to persuade the DiNozzo brothers to snuggle up on the sofa so they could enjoy a short nap and they were both fast asleep before he left to get an update from the protection detail outside.

When Tony awoke later in the afternoon he could hear Abby and McGee entertaining Davey with something on the computer over in the corner, so he tried to lose himself in an old Western that had been playing to itself on the TV. It was becoming harder to ignore the steadily increasing pain as his injuries began to protest in earnest and he was weighing up if the relief of taking some more pills was really worth enduring another manic episode or whether he wanted to hold onto his sanity for a little while longer.

Suddenly the animated chatter and occasional giggles from the corner stopped abruptly and made Tony turn from the TV to the corner of the room. He met Abby's stricken gaze as she turned to face him and all other concerns fled from his mind.

"What's wrong?" he asked with a growing feeling of foreboding.

"Oh Tony, I'm so sorry! We didn't mean to snoop, honest. I just thought it'd be fun for Davey to find out more about the DiNozzo family tree, but I never imagined..." she trailed off, her gaze flicking back to the computer monitor.

Abby's obvious distress had Tony really worried and he struggled to lever himself up from the couch so that he could hobble over to them. "Never imagined what, Abs?"

"That you had another brother," Abby answered miserably.

"What?" Tony croaked, staring in shock at the information on the computer screen.

"Oh my! You didn't know, did you?" Abby realised, taking in his incredulous expression.

Tony began to sway unsteadily as he struggled to make sense of what he was reading. His weak left knee threatened to buckle and he grabbed the back of Abby's chair, clinging on for all he was worth.

Suddenly he felt an arm slide around his waist in a solid hold and heard a barked, "Move Abby, now!" as Gibbs appeared from no-where, unceremoniously and non too gently, man-handling him into the newly vacated seat.

Man this is just embarrassing, Tony thought absently, as for the second time that week, Gibbs applied a little pressure on the back of his neck to keep his head down. At least this time his vision hadn't faded to black and he wasn't attempting to hyperventilate – if anything, he was beginning to feel strangely detached.

"What happened?" Gibbs demanded of McGee, unable to understand how the happy and contented atmosphere he'd left earlier had managed to deteriorate to this in such a short space of time.

"We were just fooling around trying to keep Davey occupied and we...er...decided to show him how to find more information on his family. We were looking for Tony's birth certificate and set parameters to check Suffolk county records for children born in the 1970s with his surname and this popped up," McGee admitted guiltily, pointing to the information on the screen. As expected Tony's birth was listed next to his parents' names on the twenty-first of July 1972, however the thing that had everyone shell-shocked was a second entry detailing the birth of another son, Daniel Clive DiNozzo, on the eighth of April 1970, with a death notification dated a mere two days later.

"I don't understand," Tony murmured, looking lost. "How could I not know something like this? Why didn't anyone ever tell me?"

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

“Tony, I'm so sorry,” McGee apologised looking like a kicked puppy when he saw how his friend had reacted to the news. “We should have asked before we went digging around in your past.”

Tony leant back in the chair and gave a rueful laugh. “Well, McGenealogy, I had no idea there was anything shocking to find so if you'd asked, I would've said yes. Don't sweat it.” His eyes took on the distant look Gibbs had seen earlier when Tony had revealed why he'd been sent away to school. “I got the message years ago that I didn't rate very high in the DiNozzo family hierarchy, but I thought I'd been kept in the loop about most of the important things – until recently.” He glanced over to where his little brother was standing looking bewildered and tearful.

“Hey buddy, you look a little sad. Need a hug?”

The little boy nodded his head vigorously and held up his arms. Tony bent down awkwardly to pick him up and settled him on his lap. As Davey snuggled into the hug he said, “Did we make you sad Tony?”

“No, not you. Honest,” Tony reassured him. “I was just thinking about our dad and it makes me kinda sad that he kept you all to himself for so long and I didn't get to meet you until now, that's all.” He gave the boy a kiss on the top of his head and added, “I would've liked to have been there when you were born and I might even have been persuaded to change a poopy diaper or two!” He grinned down at his brother and Davey began to giggle.

“Sorry I've been so grouchy,” Tony apologised. “I'm feeling kinda beat and I think I need another nap before dinner. Did you make that list with Abby, 'cause I was thinking we could have another movie night tonight and you could choose what we watch.”

“Uh, huh!” Davey agreed instantly and wriggled around a little until he could safely slide to the floor. He rushed into the kitchen and returned a few seconds later waving a piece of notepaper, which he gave to Tony.

Gibbs checked his watch and said, “I'm meeting Ziva out front in five minutes and we're gonna head over to your apartment, DiNozzo. Anything else you want to add?”

Tony quickly scanned through the list before handing it over. “Nope, I think that about covers everything.”

Gibbs gave Tony's good shoulder a quick squeeze. “Make sure you take your meds,” he urged, taking in the younger man's washed-out complexion and the stiff way he was holding himself.

“No problem Boss, it's the next thing on my 'to do' list,” Tony assured him, a quiet groan escaping as he made to stand up. He felt a hand steady him and turned in surprise to find McGee ready to help him to the bedroom.

“Lean on me,” McGee offered, feeling the need to do something practical to help. Tony seemed to understand and gave him a grateful smile before allowing the younger man to take some of his weight.

As they disappeared into the bedroom Gibbs scooped Davey up to give him a quick hug. “Don't worry, Tony will feel a lot better after his sleep,” he assured the little boy. “I'll be back as soon as I can and then we'll all watch the movie you pick, okay?” Davey gave a small nod and Gibbs kissed his cheek before putting him down. As he headed for the door he called over his shoulder, “Make sure you all stay out of mischief while I'm gone this time!”

“Sure thing Boss-man,” Abby replied brightly, giving Davey a wink and a smile.

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Once McGee had helped Tony to settle onto the bed and made sure he'd taken his meds, he couldn't help voicing something that had been preying on his mind for days. “Did you really never go home again after you were twelve?” he blurted.

“It's no big deal, Probie, I wasn't just abandoned,” Tony assured him wearily. “My dad owned quite a few places in the US and stayed in hotels all over the world. Once or twice a year he'd have me shipped to wherever he happened to be at the time and spend a couple of days with me before he jetted off somewhere else.” He paused and smirked a little. “Ya gotta look for the silver lining, Tim and for me, not going back to Long Island meant I didn't have to be the poo boy any more!”

McGee gritted his teeth to stop himself from commenting. When he was a child, he'd never gone more than a couple of days without being with his parents, other than a few trips to summer camp as he'd gotten older. The idea of only seeing them once or twice a year was unimaginable. How could any parent think it was acceptable to just 'ship' their kid around like so much surplus luggage? As definitions of abandonment went, what Tony had experienced was pretty damned close.

“Honestly Tim, the mansion on Long Island was more like a mausoleum than a real home after my mom got sick,” Tony insisted, seeing how appalled the other man looked. “When she died, Dad remarried six months later and most of the staff I'd grown up with left within a few months of my step-mom moving in.” He suddenly chuckled and continued, “Sally, our old housekeeper was English like my mom and she was a stickler for good manners and treating others with respect. She held out the longest, but she finally snapped and called my step-mom 'a mean-spirited, slutty social climber of the lowest order' as she marched out the front door. It was awesome!”

Despite how painful it was to hear of the casual neglect and loneliness Tony had had to suffer as a child, McGee couldn't help smiling at the huge grin that spread across his friend's face. It looked like the meds were kicking in.

“You know I've been thinking, if Gibbs is right and my dad knew Salvatore Gallo when they were younger, there could be a whole lot more secrets in his past. Hidden mob connections and shady deals – maybe that's why he travelled around all the time and was so secretive! You never know, if we keep digging we might find out Dad was really a Corleone and I'm in line to be the new Vito!” He gave a delighted giggle. “Don Tony doesn't sound very impressive, but Don Antonio hits the right note I think. Only problem is, I'd have to become a baddie and leave all you guys.” He frowned deeply and looked really disturbed by the idea.

“When I was a kid, I used to imagine that my dad was a world renowned spy, kinda like James Bond, but with a secret identity. The cover of an international businessman woulda been perfect, huh? Fly in for a conference or a business meeting, disappear for a little while to carry out a killing or retrieve documents vital to world peace.” The wide grin appeared back on his face. “After a successful mission he'd arrive back in a metallic silver Aston Martin just in time for canapés and champagne at a swanky reception in the evening and schmooze some gorgeous blonde with huge assets!”

Like quicksilver, Tony's mood changed again and he sounded more pensive. “It only stands to reason that having a kid would've cramped his style and it would've been really risky if his enemies found out about me, so he had to keep me a secret and maybe sending me away to boarding school was his way of protecting me. The bad guys always go for the weakest link when they're after someone, so it was probably better some people never knew I existed, don't you think?”

“Hey, are you feeling okay?” McGee asked in concern, wishing Gibbs were there. Tony usually just got goofy and happy on painkillers, but this time his emotions were all over the place and he seemed to be having trouble distinguishing between makebelieve and reality. Even though they were good friends, Tony had never offered up so much personal information before and McGee wasn't sure how he'd react if he remembered the conversation when the meds wore off.

“Sure, I'm fine,” Tony said, suddenly sounding sleepy. “Just gonna take a nap, 's all.

“Okay, but call if you need anything, alright?” McGee replied, turning to leave.

However, before he reached the door Tony roused himself slightly and called, “Hey Tim? Do you think you could find out more about what happened to the baby? It woulda been nice to have had a big brother to play with growing up, don't ya think? He coulda taught me to play catch and helped me make a den an' we coulda hung out together. That woulda been so cool....”

As Tony's eyes slid shut and his voice faded away, McGee murmured, “It sure would,Tony, but at least now you'll get to do those things with Davey.

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A half hour later, Gibbs drew his car into one of the parking spaces outside Tony's apartment block and turned off the ignition. He was just turning to release his seatbelt when he noticed a man in overalls struggling to remove a large box from the back of a dark grey van that was parked directly in front of the entrance. The writing on the side of the vehicle read 'Broughton's Couriers – Delivering a quality service to the people of Long Island since 1989'.

“Damn!” Gibbs muttered as he remembered the DiNozzos' house-keeper had promised to send the rest of Davey's things to Tony after the weekend. Sunday's events had driven all other concerns out of his mind and he hastily got out of the car to try and intercept the man before he entered the building.

Ziva followed quickly behind him, wondering why Gibbs suddenly felt the need to hurry, but didn't get a chance to ask as he strode purposefully ahead of her. She became more puzzled when instead of approaching the front door, he stopped by the back of a truck. Her curiosity had her squinting upside down to read the delivery details on the top box loaded onto a handcart.

“Gibbs, these boxes are for Tony,” she observed with surprise.

“I'll sign for those,” Gibbs offered helpfully, addressing the man in overalls. “They're for a friend of ours and he's not home right now.”

“Yeah, right!” the delivery man sneered derisively. “That's one of the oldest tricks in the book and I ain't no wet behind the ears newbie, pal! If ya wanna rip someone off go find another dope, 'cause I ain't fallin' for it!”

“We only wished to save you from an unnecessary journey that is all,” Ziva insisted, taking a step forward.

“Look lady, back off!” the man replied angrily. “This job's caused me enough trouble already, so the sooner I get these boxes delivered the sooner I can head home.”

“Alright. If you prefer to waste your time travelling up to an empty apartment we will not stop you,” she said, stepping aside and waving him past.

“Word of advice if ya plan on makin' a career of this?” the man offered as he started wheeling his handcart towards the building. “Next time, get to the driver before he's spoken to the guy waiting for the parcels.”

“What do you mean?” Gibbs asked, moving to once again block the man's path.

“I arrived a while back an' I know for a fact the apartment ain't empty 'cause I already delivered the first five boxes, okay? Now scram before I call the cops,” the driver threatened, awkwardly pulling out his cell phone one-handed and looking poised to start dialling.

Gibbs was suddenly all business, producing his ID from his pocket and flipping the cover open to reveal his badge and photo. “We're federal agents and the man you're supposed to be delivering these packages to was the victim of a hit and run on Sunday morning, so I know for a fact that whoever you've been dealing with is the one trying to pull a fast one.”

The driver scrutinised the ID looking increasingly less sure of himself. “Oh, well,” he mumbled. “Why didn't ya say so instead of actin' all suspicious like?”

“Ziva call for back-up, and keep watch in the foyer,” Gibbs ordered before pinning the delivery driver with a gimlet stare. “Now, tell me what you know.”

“Well, I tried to make the delivery yesterday, only nobody was home so I left a card an' headed back. I didn't wanna make the journey again but it was our anniversary an' Nora said she'd skin me alive if I missed another one,” he huffed unhappily.

“Anyways, then I gets a call from this DiNozzo guy at about eight last night an he says he's home an' I need to get there pronto. Now I'm a pretty even-tempered kinda guy, but he pissed me off ya know? He was shouting an' demanding his stuff an' Nora was givin' me the evil eye for takin' a work call an' upsetting our romantic evening. Things got kinda heated an' a few, lets say colourful words were exchanged. Finally I told him if it was all that important, he shoulda been there when I tried to deliver in the first place and that I'd be back this afternoon.” The driver smirked at Gibbs. “Sure was satisfying slammin' that phone down on him!”

“So what happened when you got here today?” Gibbs prompted.

“I arrived and went straight up to the apartment. The guy answered the door as soon as I knocked and acted kinda cagey now I come to think about it. He was tryin' ta block the doorway with his body an' told me to leave the boxes out in the hall. I did hear noises coming from behind him though, so there coulda been someone else in there.”

“And you didn't find that odd until now?”

“Hey, you'd be surprised what ya see in some o' these places,” the man replied with a shrug. “Ya kinda get immune after a while. Folks not wantin' ya to see inside is pretty normal - it's the guys who answer the door wearin' nothin' but their socks or the ones with creepy smiles who invite you in for a drink ya gotta watch out for!” He gave Gibbs a wink and a knowing smile.

“Right, well we'll take it from here...Doug,” Gibbs replied, reading the man's name tag on his overalls. “Stay in your van and lock the door until the cops arrive. Agent David and I'll check out the apartment. We'll need your statement before you leave.”

“Oh, sure. Whatever ya need,” Doug agreed happily, watching the agents head towards the entrance. This was going to be worth a few free drinks when he told his workmates what had happened. He wondered if there'd be shooting – that'd make the story a whole lot more exciting!

Gibbs and Ziva took the stairs to the third floor and emerged into the hallway, approaching Tony's apartment cautiously with weapons drawn. The door was slightly ajar and from the noises they could hear, there was definitely someone inside and they were making no attempts to be quiet. Gibbs did a silent count and on three, they rushed through the door to find two men busily ripping into the newly delivered boxes, slashing through the contents as if searching for something before discarding each item haphazardly.

“Federal agents!” Gibbs declared menacingly. “Hands where I can see them. Now!”

The look of shocked surprise on the men's faces as they froze was almost comical and they didn't even have time to attempt a token resistance; they dropped whatever they were holding and slowly raised their hands.

Ziva moved forward and had the men disarmed and handcuffed within a couple of minutes. She was informing them of their Miranda rights before Gibbs felt able to relax enough to take in his surroundings.

When he did, he suppressed a groan as his gaze swept around the living room. The place looked like a powerful tornado had swept through it, with Tony's treasured possessions lying around either smashed or torn. The expensive leather sofas had practically been shredded, photos and paintings had been ripped from their frames, furniture was upended and DVDs were strewn everywhere, their empty cases tossed away just as carelessly. As he surveyed the damage Gibbs was hard pressed to find anything that had escaped the wanton destruction.

“What in God's name is going on here?” he barked angrily, as his gaze fell on a pile of disembowelled plush toys, the stuffing littered all over the floor like snow. He turned to face the two prisoners. “ I want your names, now, and the name of whoever you're working for.” When the restrained men just stared sullenly back at him, making no attempt to reply, he advanced on them, eyes blazing. “So help me, one of you'd better find your tongue and answer me right now or there'll be hell to pay,” he growled, raising a fist.

“Thank you for your help Special Agent Gibbs,” came a familiar voice from behind him. “We'll take it from here.”

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

Gibbs stopped mid-stride and quickly turned around to transfer his glare to the new arrival. “Tobias! What the hell are you doing here?” he growled unhappily. Surely there was no way the FBI could have known there was something going down at Tony's apartment, was there?

“I don't care what he thinks he's doing here, but he definitely won't be muscling in on my investigation,” Bernie Crocker declared, effectively announcing the arrival of their back-up. He moved swiftly into the living room and squared up against a momentarily startled Fornell. “I sure hope you haven't been illegally monitoring police frequencies Special Agent, because we don't take kindly to that around here.”

“Now, now, gentlemen lets try and keep this on the right side of civil shall we,” Fornell suggested mildly. “We're all on the same side and there's nothing sinister going on. I simply had a call from Special Agent Sacks after your meeting this morning, Jethro and he suggested it might be wise to stake out DiNozzo's apartment given the information the child was able to provide. DiNozzo senior's death and the attempt on his sons' lives are almost certainly linked.”

“Yeah? Well I think it's jumping the gun to link what could just be a random break-in with attempted murder!” Crocker insisted bullishly. “So, unless decapitating plushies has suddenly become a Federal crime, I'd appreciate it if you'd vacated my crime scene. If we uncover evidence supporting your theory, I'll be sure and contact you.” He gave Fornell a condescending smile and added, “Of course, if you feel you have any relevant information you want to pass along, I'm all ears.”

Gibbs forced himself to keep a straight face at Bernie's uncompromising stance. The junior agent who'd accompanied Fornell looked shocked and affronted that anyone would dare question the FBI's right to waltz in and take over a case and he took an aggressive step forward. In response, two uniformed officers looking just as determined, moved in to flank their plain-clothed colleague.

“I see the good detective attended the same charm school you did, Jethro,” Fornell observed, placing a restraining hand on the younger agent's shoulder and trying to defuse what threatened to become an ugly confrontation with a little wry humour.

This time, Gibbs couldn't help himself and a grin spread across his face. Tobias was a good friend, but it was still enjoyable to see him discomfited every now and then. “Yup,” he agreed glibly. “Playing nice with others is our speciality.”

Crocker barked out a surprised laugh and relaxed a little. “I really think we should continue this conversation down at the precinct over coffee,” he suggested, glaring pointedly at the handcuffed men who were taking far too much interest in their conversation. “Providing the floor show for these bozos is not how I want to be spending my afternoon. Take 'em down-town and book 'em with unlawful entry and wilful and wanton injury to property for starters,” he instructed the cop standing to his right.

“Yes Sir,” the man replied and he and his partner moved forward to take custody of the perps. Gibbs gestured for Ziva to go with them and she gave a crisp nod before falling into step behind them as they headed for the door.

“Damn, your boy must be just about the unluckiest guy on the planet,” Bernie said to Gibbs, his eyes roving around, surveying the wreckage of Tony's apartment.

“Well, he definitely has his moments,” Gibbs conceded ruefully. “Mind if I check out the rest of the place before we go?”

“Be my guest,” Crocker agreed, trusting the experienced agent not to contaminate any evidence.

Gibbs walked down to the bedrooms only to discover they'd received the same treatment as the living room. The beds were upturned, mattresses slashed and drawers had been pulled out and carelessly thrown aside. Only the built-in closets were undamaged, although they were now empty as the clothes and other contents had been strewn all over the floor.

Despite the level of destruction everywhere, the thing that angered Gibbs the most was the way all of the books and toys Abby had brought for Davey were ripped and smashed to pieces. He was just glad the little boy's treasured 'Maria' photo had never made it back to the apartment, because he had no doubt it would have been destroyed.

He took one last grim look around and then strode back to the living room where Crocker and Fornell were waiting for him.

“C'mon,” he said, “it's time we got some answers from those bastards.”

The others nodded their agreement and they headed for the door. However, they'd barely reached the hallway when the sound of rapid gunfire, accompanied by shouts and screams from the street below, had them dashing back inside. There was more shouting, a few sporadic shots were fired and then the sounds of screeching tyres as a vehicle roared away.

By the time Gibbs got to a window, all he could see was a large white van accelerating up the road. His stomach churned with dread as he looked down to see at least three people lying on the ground with blood pooling around their bodies. His gaze frantically darted around the scene until he spotted Ziva breaking cover and he heaved a sigh of relief. He watched as she ran into the middle of the road and took up position before firing off a couple of rounds. The back windows of the van shattered, but the vehicle didn't slow down and it suddenly took a left turn at speed and disappeared. Ziva stalked back to the side-walk, looking royally pissed.

Although the panic of moments before was now gone, it was replaced by an air of shock and disbelief. It was eerily quiet for a few seconds before people began emerging from behind wherever they'd managed to take cover. There were urgent shouts for assistance as they rushed to help the injured and sirens could be heard in the distance.

By the time Gibbs made it downstairs and exited the building, the first of the EMT teams had arrived and extra police had been drafted in to establish some semblance of order. He quickly spotted Ziva and walked over to join her.

“You okay?” he asked, visually checking her over for injuries.

“I am fine,” she answered hotly. When Gibbs raised an eyebrow at her tone, she visibly struggled to calm down before continuing, “Sorry Gibbs, I am angry because they took me completely by surprise and I should have been more alert to possible danger.” She pointed over to a body lying face down to their left. “That is one of our suspects. He did not make it.”

“Not your fault, Ziva,” Gibbs assured her. “I should have anticipated something like this. Ever since Senior was murdered, it's just been one thing after another!” He squeezed her shoulder gently and prompted, “What about the other guy?”

“He is alright. In fact, he was the one who warned us at the last moment,” Ziva admitted. “The vehicle pulled up, but there was nothing suspicious about it until the door on the side opened. I think the man recognised someone and shouted that we should look out. We all dived for cover - except for the suspect who died. When four men jumped out of the van and started firing he just stood there looking stunned. I think he was dead before he hit the floor,” she said with a shrug.

“We began returning fire and two of the shooters went down immediately. Someone inside the vehicle provided covering fire for the other two to retreat. Only one man made it inside the van, although I am sure he was injured. Whoever was driving hit the gas and they sped off.” Ziva paused again and added apologetically, “I took a few shots as they escaped, but it made no difference.”

“Like I said, not your fault,” Gibbs reiterated. “Any other casualties on our side?”

“One of the officers was shot in the calf, but it is a through and through and he will be fine. The other cop is guarding our second suspect while he receives treatment in one of the ambulances. It is only a flesh wound to his hand, nothing more,” she explained. “As far as I know there are three civilian casualties, including the delivery driver you spoke to, but the injuries are minor and mostly from flying glass.”

Gibbs nodded his understanding and then ordered, “Go see if you can track the driver down and get a hold of the boxes he hadn't delivered yet. We might just find what those guys were searching for.”

“Yes Gibbs,” Ziva acknowledged before jogging over to where the ambulances were parked.

“I think we should take the suspect to your headquarters, Gibbs,” Crocker suggested quietly. “It's a lot more secure than the precinct and I'd rather keep casualties to a minimum. Whoever wants this guy dead doesn't seem overly worried about collateral damage and we don't want Fornell's guys using that as an excuse to spirit him away before we find out what's going on.”

“Good idea,” Gibbs agreed readily. Making sure you had the home court advantage was always best when dealing with the FBI. “I'll call Vance on the way and get him to tell the guys at the gate to expect us.”

“What about Fornell?”

“Seems a shame to disturb him. He looks pretty involved over there, don't you think?” Gibbs asked, pointing to where Tobias was chatting with three newly arrived agents. “Once we're safely back at the Navy Yard I'll give him a call.”

Both men shared a smirk and casually started walking away from the building.

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Leon Vance was standing in the observation room next to Interrogation watching the man Gibbs and Ziva had found ransacking DiNozzo's apartment. The guy hadn't spoken since he'd been brought in, not even to demand a lawyer; he just sat there staring down at the table with his hands clasped in front of him, obviously deep in thought. The door behind Vance opened and Detective Crocker entered, followed closely by a disgruntled looking Fornell.

“Gibbs is on his way, and I think we got a name for our perp,” Bernie informed the director, handing him one of the cups of coffee he was carrying. When Vance gave him a questioning look, he elaborated, “I spoke with my captain a little while ago and he told me someone from a fancy lawyers' office in New York has been calling precincts all over the district demanding to know where their client, Joseph Romano, has been taken. They're being pretty aggressive and threatening lawsuits if we try and interrogate him without representation.”

Vance frowned. “Odd reaction to a supposedly petty criminal's arrest, wouldn't you say?”

“My thoughts exactly,” Crocker agreed. “Agent David's been running his name through the system to see what she can find out about him.”

Just then the door to Interrogation opened and Gibbs and Ziva stepped into the room. He sat down, placing a buff coloured file on the table whilst she stood to the side, leaning against the wall.

“So, Joey, you seem to be a pretty popular guy,” Gibbs drawled as he opened the file in front of him. “The lawyers at Fitch, Blanchard and Cove in New York have been trying to track you down for the past hour and seem very eager that you don't talk to us. They're pushing to get you released.”

“What?” the previously silent man blurted out, his head jerking up in shocked surprise. “You can't let them do that! If you do, I'm as good as dead!”

“Death seems to be a common occurrence around you lately, Joey,” Gibbs observed, giving the man an assessing stare. “You worked for recently deceased mob boss, Carmine Buchetta, who in turn knew murdered businessman Anthony DiNozzo, the father of Anthony Junior and David DiNozzo. Thankfully they survived an attempt on their lives last weekend by a man called Louis Russo, who managed to kill himself instead. Imagine my surprise when I found out he was the nephew of Daniel Marconi, your partner in crime and one of the men who died this afternoon .” As he named each person, Gibbs had placed a photograph of them on the table one by one.

“Now these three, we haven't identified yet,” he continued, showing Romano pictures of the gunmen who'd been killed outside Tony's building, “although Special Agent David is pretty sure you recognised at least one of them right before they tried to kill you.” He paused and started counting on his fingers before leaning forward and intensifying his stare. “By my reckoning, that's a body count of seven in less than a week, all in some way linked to you.”

Joe picked up the photograph of Marconi's body, a faraway look in his eyes. “Me an' Danny have been friends since we were little kids an' started working together straight outta school,” he said, his hands shaking slightly. He gave a sad half smile and addressed the picture, “I guess we pissed the boss off one too many times, huh, Danny? Mama always did say if ya make a deal with the Devil you always end up paying the price.” He straightened in his chair and met Gibbs' gaze. “Look, what kinda deal can I get here?”

“I guess that depends on what you've got to offer,” Gibbs replied with a shrug.

“I ain't too far up the food chain if ya know what I mean, but I can give ya enough to take down my boss an' blow his operation wide open,” Joe offered. “In return I want a new identity as far away from here as it's possible to get.”

“I wouldn't call that much of a bargaining chip. Buchetta's already dead,” Gibbs pointed out.

“I ain't worked for Carmine in over a year,” Joe informed him. “I'm talkin' about bringin' down Giovanni Gallo.”

Gibbs turned to the two-way mirror and raised his eyebrows at the surprising news. A few seconds later, his cell phone began to ring. He put it to his ear and listened for a minute before snapping it shut without saying a word.

“My boss says if your information leads to Gallo's arrest, you've got yourself a deal, now start talking.”

“Well, I started workin' for Gio's father, Sally, uh that's Salvatore Gallo, straight outta school,” Romano began hesitantly. “When he was killed an' that nasty son of a bitch Buchetta took over, it was either get with the programme or get yourself dead if you know what I mean - so even though me 'n' Danny hated workin' for him, we kept our heads down an' just got on with it.”

Romano rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and went on, “Anyway, about a year ago one of the other guys said Gio Gallo was all grown up and back in the country looking to take back his father's turf an' asked if we was interested in joinin' him. Sally was a great boss an' I thought it'd be like old times. Gio's more ruthless than his father ever was and more ambitious, but he treated us right and things were fine – until now.”

“So, what's suddenly changed and why did he turn on you?” Gibbs prompted.

“Giovanni finally decided it was time to show his hand,” Joe said. “He's been workin' at it for over two years on the QT, moving his own supporters into the area and slowly isolating Buchetta. He said it was way past time to take his father's killer down.”

“So why did he kill Anthony DiNozzo? Was he involved in Salvatore's murder?” Gibbs asked, suddenly concerned Senior might be implicated.

“Nah, but I think they were friends in college or somethin',” Joe replied. He looked deep in thought for a few seconds before explaining, “The main thing you gotta understand about Gio is that his obsession with family honour is more important to him than almost everythin' else. When he found out that one of his dad's old friends was involved in some kinda business venture with Buchetta, he saw it as a betrayal. He went to visit DiNozzo and offered to provide the finance he needed in return for his help to bring down Buchetta.”

Joe stopped and pointed at the picture of Russo. “Louie was at the meetin' and he told me DiNozzo practically laughed in Gio's face and said he didn't need help from criminals because a legitimate backer had come forward with the money. Things got really heated and a few threats were made before DiNozzo called security and had them thrown out. Gallo was about ready to explode but I'm not sure if he would've taken it any further, except for something Buchetta said after we grabbed him last week.”

“Go on, ” Gibbs prompted again as Romano lapsed into silence.

Joe's shoulders slumped and he scrubbed at his eyes again. “The boss took his time with Buchetta once we'd grabbed him. I guess you'd call it torture, but it wasn't anything Carmine hadn't done to others when he was in charge. The guy was defiant at first an' kept tauntin' us that he'd got enough dirt on Gallo's organisation to send us to jail for decades. He said there were copies and if anythin' happened to him then the information would go to the Feds.

“All of a sudden, it wasn't just about Gio enjoying his revenge, it was about gettin' Buchetta to tell him where the stuff was stashed. I gotta say, he held out a lot longer than I expected but he eventually caved and spilled his guts. Buchetta even admitted DiNozzo was involved too and had a flash drive with everything they'd uncovered hidden in one of his kid's toys.”

Gibbs frowned as he considered this new information. So that's what Romano and his partner had been looking for in Tony's apartment.  However, it was puzzling because Davey had remembered Senior sending Buchetta packing when he'd asked for help. Could the little boy have been mistaken?

“Why would Buchetta do that?” Ziva interrupted. “He must have known he was going to die.”

“Well yeah, but by then I think he knew that was gonna happen either way an' I guess he just wanted the pain to stop,” Joe surmised. “Anyway, Gio disappeared for a while an' the next mornin' DiNozzo was dead, only whoever got sent to do the deed got spooked and didn't get the flash drive.  
Me, Danny an' Louie ended up on Long Island watchin' an' waitin' for the media circus to move on but before that happened we saw them packin' the kid off somewhere and were told to follow him.”

“Then why did you try to kill him?” Gibbs growled, unable to hide his anger.

“That was all Louie!” Joe insisted. “He waited until me 'n' Danny took over watchin' the apartment Sunday morning, stole a car an', well, you know the rest.” He put his head in his hands. “Honest ta God, I thought all his talk about takin' the kid out because it was what the boss wanted was just a loada macho bullshit. Until last night.”

“What do you mean?” Gibbs demanded, his gut starting to churn.

“We'd been dodgin' calls from the boss all day, tryin' ta think of a way to sort out Louie's mess before he found out. When no-one came back to the apartment, we broke in hoping to find the flash drive but found a note about a delivery from the DiNozzo estate instead. I was sure the thing'd be in that stuff an' I knew we had ta check in, so I called an' told the boss we'd have the evidence within twenty-four hours an' not to worry.

“Man, Gallo went ballistic! He'd heard about Louie and went ragin' on and on about how we'd messed up his plans an' how we had to tie up all loose ends or the whole operation would be blown. He was screaming about family honour and vengeance and demanded we get the information and then make sure DiNozzo's line ended for good. I swear he sounded like he was foaming at the mouth!” Joe raised his head and stared directly at Gibbs. “Right then I knew me 'n' Danny were screwed, whatever happened. I ain't no angel, but I don't kill innocent little kids.”

“So why stick around? Why return to the apartment today?” Gibbs asked leaning forward in his chair.

Joe sat there plucking at the bandage on his injured hand and shrugged. “Gallo called back a while later all calm and reasonable an' apologised. He said the pressure was gettin' to him an' to just get the flash drive an' head back to New York. Danny went on an' on, tryin' to convince me I'd misunderstood an' I guess I just wanted to believe we could get past this an' go home.” He spread his arms wide. “After all, where do ya run when someone like Gallo's after ya, huh?”

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: The following chapter contains reference to miscarriage in the past.

Gibbs didn't make it back to the penthouse in Crystal City that night. Instead, he listened to Joey Romano sing like a proverbial canary: The man seemed so eager to prove his worth as a witness for the prosecution and save his sorry ass that he provided the names of people he'd seen Gallo meet with, together with the details of over-heard conversations and addresses for warehouses where they regularly stored guns and drugs; he may not have been in the upper echelons of the organisation but the information he was able to give them helped to compile a substantial dossier.

During the course of the interrogation, it became increasingly obvious that finding the missing flash drive could potentially blow the whole case wide open. If it contained the information Buchetta had bragged about, they'd have solid evidence to corroborate Romano's story and would be able to make a decisive move against Gallo. Unfortunately, a thorough forensic examination of Tony's apartment and the boxes containing Davey's belongings, hadn't yielded a single clue as to its whereabouts and it was becoming more and more likely that Romano had been sent on a wild goose chase.

The only logical explanation seemed to be that it was still hidden on the Long Island estate, or at one of DiNozzo senior's other properties. There was also the possibility that Buchetta had been paranoid enough to make more copies of the file, so Fornell had excused himself just before midnight to rush off and find a friendly judge who'd be willing to issue search warrants for the homes of both men.

By the early hours of Wednesday morning, Romano had signed his statement and the FBI had taken its new star witness into custody, whisking him away to the Hoover building before the ink was even dry. As far as Gibbs was concerned it was good riddance to bad rubbish. He had his answers concerning Senior's murder and the attempt on Tony and Davey's lives and had better things to do than babysit a lowlife mobster he'd have been happier to see hung out to dry; that sentiment was further underlined after he'd taken a break to let the others know what was happening and had had to listen to Tony's weary and disheartened response to the news about his apartment.

After the FBI contingent finally left, Gibbs managed to catch a few hours sleep in Abby's lab before tying up the last of the loose ends, which included dispatching a clean-up crew to Tony's apartment with orders to salvage anything they could and to dispose of the rest. He was sure the majority of the contents were beyond repair, but it didn't hurt to be thorough. At least the two boxes of Davey's belongings that hadn't made it into Tony's apartment were intact and the last thing Gibbs did before heading out, was to arrange for them to be delivered to the safe house later that afternoon.

When he finally arrived back at the penthouse just after eleven, it was to find an exhausted looking Tony once again asleep on the sofa. McGee was diligently working at the computer and over by the table he was surprised to see Leon Vance sitting with Abby, both busily helping Davey paint the models they'd made the day before. The director was obviously enjoying himself and had removed his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves to join in.

“Boss-man, you're back!” Abby called happily as Gibbs walked through the door.

Davey looked up with a startled expression before a smile spread across his face and he raced across the room to throw himself at the man.

“Boss! Boss! Look, we're colouring the animals!” he cried excitedly as he was swept up into Gibbs' arms. “You gotta see my skurril, he's awesome!”

“You've got an awesome squirrel, have you?” Gibbs asked with a laugh. “Let's go take a look at it then, shall we?”

“Ah, huh,” Davey agreed happily as he was carried across the room. When they reached the sofa, the little boy snuggled further into Gibbs' arms, laying his head on the man's shoulder and whispering sadly, “The new lady hurt Tony an' he was trying to be brave, but I could tell.”

Before Gibbs could ask what the child meant, Vance left the table and walked over to join them.

“Doctor Mallard asked me to arrange for someone to come over and start DiNozzo's physical therapy today,” he explained solemnly. “He insisted it was better to get started as soon as possible, but it looked like a fairly gruelling session.”

“Oh, I see,” Gibbs replied, looking down at Tony with concerned eyes. Frankly, the younger man looked worse than he had in the hospital and the flush on his cheeks was definitely worrying. He set Davey down on the floor and brushed away a few stray hairs from Tony's forehead before resting his own hand there. It felt warm to the touch, but not enough to cause alarm.

“He's fine, Gibbs,” Vance assured his senior agent. “Ducky checked him over thoroughly before he left to deal with something back at headquarters. He seemed sure DiNozzo would sleep for another hour or so, by which time the good doctor promised to be back.”

Gibbs gave him an acknowledging nod. “I didn't expect to see you here Leon, is something wrong?”

“No, everything's fine, but when Jackie heard what happened to David's things, she insisted on packing up some of Jared's old toys and I was ordered to deliver them immediately,” Vance admitted with a wry half smile. “I also wanted to tell Miss Sciuto that Bowman has agreed to cover for her for the next week, so she's free to continue helping out here if she wants.” He paused and reached down to tickle a worried looking Davey under the chin. “Then this young man asked if I'd like to help with his painting project and it sounded like a lot of fun, so I couldn't say no.”

Gibbs glanced down at the little boy who'd started giggling quietly. It was amazing how Vance could change from the serious and forbidding director of a government agency to a friendly father figure with such ease.

“It does sound fun,” Gibbs said with a smile. “Davey, let's let Tony sleep and you can show me your squirrel. Then if you like, maybe I could help out with some of the other animals?”

“Sure! It is fun, it is!” Davey agreed excitedly, rushing back to the table where Abby helped him to clamber up onto his chair. “Abby's colouring Timmy's elafunt 'cause he's real busy with important stuff, so you can do the gruzzly bear an' I'm gonna do Tony's rukkoon for a surprise, 'kay?”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Gibbs replied, following at a slower pace and sharing an amused smile with Abby and Vance at Davey organising them.

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Tony awoke almost two hours later to the smell of Chinese food and his stomach rumbled in response. He tried to roll to his side to lever himself up and let out a low moan of pain. Laura, the physical therapist, had warned him that the rigours of the morning's exercises would probably make him feel worse temporarily, but he hadn't believed that was possible – until right then.

“Crap,” he murmured, as every inch of the left side of his body seemed to protest. The worst pain was localised around his injured shoulder and hip, where the nerves and muscles felt like they were being stabbed with red-hot skewers. He aborted his attempt to sit up and just lay there trying to stay as still as possible and taking shallow, gasping breaths.

“Ah, you're awake,” Ducky announced, far too cheerfully in Tony's opinion, as he appeared next to the sofa. “How are you feeling, my boy?”

Tony looked up and glared more fiercely than he'd intended when he spotted the glass of water and more pills in the other man's hands. “Like someone who's overly medicated?” he snarked. “Sorry, Ducky, I just hate feeling like this.” he apologised almost immediately. “I don't 'do' feeling useless very well.”

“Ya think, DiNozzo?” Gibbs commented with a snort.

“There's only Tylenol and a muscle relaxant, I promise,” Ducky assured his patient, opening his hand to reveal the tablets. It was always a balancing act with Tony when he was ill between ensuring he accepted the help he needed to get better and trying to accommodate his insistence on not being a burden or showing any sign of weakness. To that end, Ducky had decided to leave the next dose of stronger medication for when the younger man could retreat to his own room that night.

“Thanks Ducky,” Tony sighed as he was slowly and gently helped into a sitting position and handed the glass and pills. “Where are Davey and the others?” he asked, realising they weren't in the room.

“Timothy needed some things from work and Abby's taken David for a tricycle ride.”

“What!” Tony looked horrified. “You let him go outside?” He made to push himself up off the sofa, but thankfully Gibbs' restraining hand on his chest stopped him before he'd moved too far. “Damn it!” he yelped, stilling his body again and trying to catch his breath. “That hurt!”

“Relax Tony, they're not outside the building and Agent Balboa's team is with them,” Gibbs assured him. “Bob Lewis thought the little guy was probably getting stir crazy in here and suggested he burn off a little excess energy riding up and down the hallway. The elevator and stairwell are secure, so they're safe.”

“Yes, apparently Robert's son graduated to a shiny new two wheeler last year and his old tricycle has just been collecting dust in the garage,” Ducky explained, adopting a nostalgic expression. “I remember getting a Tri-ang Junior Tricycle for Christmas when I was David's age. It was emerald green and I thought it was the most perfect present I'd ever received. I'd zip up and down the streets at such a pace that my mother accused me of trying to give her a heart attack.” He grinned gleefully. “I'm afraid it was rather hilly you see and I could really pick up speed down those slopes!”

To Gibbs' relief, McGee chose that precise moment to return and his bustling entrance interrupted what had threatened to be another of Ducky's long and rambling monologues. The young agent was carrying a couple of cases and had a laptop bag slung over his shoulder. He seemed relieved to have made it inside and once he'd kicked the door closed, he dumped the two black cases on the floor and checked his watch.

“Made it with five minutes to spare,” he announced happily as he headed further into the room and placed the bag carefully on the coffee table before removing the laptop. “Have you told him yet?”

“Told me what, Probie?” Tony asked, not waiting for the others to answer.

“Well, I've been working on that thing you asked me to look into last night,” he replied, looking a little uncomfortable.

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that,” Tony muttered, suddenly finding the cuff of his sweatshirt fascinating and picking at it absently. “I'm not sure where all that stuff about spies and my dad saving the world came from, you know?”

“I think it came from a lonely little boy who was trying to make some sense of why he got sent away from home and practically abandoned by a dad he loved,” McGee told him, putting a hand on Tony's shoulder and giving it a light squeeze. “Honestly Tony, I feel privileged my friend felt he could confide that part of his past to me.”

Tony looked up and saw the sincerity in Tim's eyes before the younger man grinned and added, “Even if he is the biggest pain in the ass I ever met, most of the time.”

“Aw Probie, bugging you is my biggest pleasure in life, you know that!” Tony shot back, obviously more comfortable with the light banter than any talk of feelings.

“Anyway, do you remember your parents having a personal physician called Jefferson Hilliard?” Tim asked, suddenly all business. When Tony looked blankly back at him, he continued, “I couldn't find any hospital records for your mom from when your brother Daniel was born, so I started looking for other medical records and Doctor Hilliard's name came up. I'm hoping he'll be able to answer your questions.

“Hilliard, Doctor Hilliard,” Tony muttered to himself, trying to cast his mind back to his childhood. He finally looked up at McGee and shrugged. “The name sounds familiar and I've got a vague memory of visiting a really swanky doctor's office in Manhattan a couple of times with my dad. I remember because we walked to Central Park afterwards and spent the afternoon together.” Tony looked deep in thought. “The guy I remember could be dead by now though – he was older than Dad.”

“Ah, but that's where you're wrong,” Ducky said, a satisfied look on his face.

“You know him?” Tony asked in surprise.

“No, not personally, but I do know his sister's husband's brother. Or should I have said, his sister's brother-in-law?” Ducky replied with a frown. “Well, no matter. Dougie Bennett and I went to Edinburgh Medical College together and his brother, John, married Jefferson Hilliard's sister over fifty years ago. As soon as Timothy mentioned the name I was sure I'd heard of him. The Hilliards were a very prominent Long Island family at the time and Dougie was always being invited to some fancy party or another.”

“Wow, Ducky, Kevin Bacon has nothing on you,” Tony observed admiringly. When the doctor looked blankly back at him, he explained, “You know, the game based on six degrees of separation, except you have to link someone to Kevin Bacon in six film references or less? Really Ducky, it's kinda spooky how many people you know!”

“Well Anthony, I always like to think that our lives are enriched by social interaction and a little networking along the way does no harm,” Ducky replied with a grin.

“Do you think this guy would be willing to talk to me?” Tony asked tentatively, drawing the conversation back to the matter at hand. “I mean, there's doctor-patient privilege and all that, right?”

“My dear boy, that relates to legal matters,” Ducky pointed out, “although there are ethical issues to consider. Nevertheless, I called Dougie this morning and he put me in touch with Jefferson right away. We talked for quite a while and it appears he was a very close friend of your parents as well as being their physician. He retired to Florida a couple of years ago, but he's eager to talk to you.”

“Oh,” Tony replied, sounding disappointed. “I'd really like to talk to him face to face and obviously a trip down there's off the cards for a while.”

“That's why I brought the laptop, so you can video conference with Doctor Hilliard right from the sofa!” McGee said, smiling broadly. “Ducky says he's what the British call a silver surfer, because he's an older person who loves surfing the Net and keeping in touch with friends and family through the computer. He's already set up for this kind of thing.” Tim made a few final adjustments and stepped back. “Okay, I just have to press a few buttons to connect. You ready?”

“Now?” Tony practically squeaked. “We're doing this now?”

“No time like the present, DiNozzo,” Gibbs said. “Do you want us to leave you to it?”

Tony looked nervously around at his friends. Did he? He was about to talk to a virtual stranger who probably knew more about his family than he did. “No,” he said decisively, “I think there's been enough secrecy about this. Do it, Probie.”

McGee tapped a few keys and after a couple of seconds delay, an elderly man appeared on the screen. What hair he had left was completely white and his tanned skin showed the ravages of too much sun, however, he had a kindly face and he greeted Tony warmly.

“Anthony, it's a pleasure to see you again after all these years, although I wish it were under better circumstances. Please accept my condolences,” Hilliard offered.

“Oh, um...thanks,” Tony murmured, suddenly unsure of how to proceed. “Look, I'm sorry to bother you, but I found out a few things after Dad died and I'm kinda playing catch up with the past, if you know what I mean. I have a lot of questions and I'm not really sure where to start looking for answers, so I'd appreciate anything you could tell me.”

“Yes, Doctor Mallard told me you were curious about some things relating to your past, but he didn't elaborate,” Hilliard replied “I have no problem telling you all I know because I don't think I would be breaking any confidences. Much of what happened back then was more something you preferred not to talk about than actually being secret and I know your father spoke to me on more than one occasion about wishing he'd been more open with you when you were young.”

“Well, I just found out I have a brother and....” Tony began hesitantly.

“Ah, little Daniel,” Hilliard interrupted, shaking his head sadly. “He was born prematurely and died less than forty-eight hours later from respiratory distress. I'm afraid his tiny lungs weren't developed enough to sustain him. Your parents were understandably devastated.”

“Oh,” was all Tony could think of to say.

“Yes, such a tragedy. With all the innovations in treatment in recent years, he would most probably have survived if born today.” He smiled at Tony and continued, “Thankfully you were born hale and hearty just over two years later and everything seemed fine for a while.”

Those last few words made Tony feel uneasy and he knew things were about to turn bad as Hilliard sat there with a pensive look on his face.

“When you were about two, your parents decided to try for another child, but Elizabeth suffered miscarriage after miscarriage. I know she yearned for a house full of children and her inability to carry another baby into the second trimester caused her a great deal of distress. I watched her go from a delightful young woman with a smile and a kind word for everyone to someone who was bitter and unhappy and who increasingly turned to alcohol to get her through the day.

“I never knew,” Tony admitted. “My memories from back then are just feelings really. I remember I was alone a lot and my mom was sad and stayed in her room most of the time. The staff told me not to bother her because she was sick and the few times Dad was at home he was really distant. I learned to stay out of the way as much as possible.”

“Yes, unfortunately your whole family was badly affected by Elizabeth's obsession with having another child. She simply wouldn't accept the situation and couldn't appreciate what she had right in front of her,” Hilliard agreed. “Finally, she nearly died suffering her eighth miscarriage and your father elected to have a vasectomy to stop her putting her life at risk again. It was very much against your mother's wishes and irreparably damaged their relationship. They both drank far too much and your father increasingly threw himself into his work. As you know, seven months later your mother died and your father began his habit of entering into ill-advised marriages.”

“But what about Davey?” Tony asked, feeling like he'd just been punched in the gut as the significance of what the doctor had said hit home. “If my father had a vasectomy all those years ago, how can Davey be my brother?”

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

As Tony sat there anxiously awaiting Hilliard's reply, the doctor's expression suddenly changed from one of kind concern to open delight.

"Well I never, the old dog beat the odds!" he exclaimed. "That's wonderful news!"

"Wonderful?" Tony managed to croak through a throat that felt as dry as dust. What the hell was so great about Davey not being Senior's son, or his biological brother for that matter?

"Of course," Hilliard confirmed, clearly surprised at Tony's question. "I know there have been cases of vasectomies being reversed decades after the original procedure, but a successful outcome wasn't a foregone conclusion and when you take into account the other factors in the case, I frankly didn't hold out much hope they'd have a child. Obviously if you have a little brother, I was wrong."

"So, my dad had a reversal and you didn't know about Davey?" Tony asked, desperately trying to make sense of what the doctor was saying.

"I'm sorry, I'm not explaining myself very well, am I?" Hilliard apologised, noticing Tony's confusion. "Your father and step-mother came to see me a few years ago to ask about the possibility of having a child. I explained that the vasectomy could be reversed, however, with your father's years of heavy drinking I thought his sperm could have been adversely affected and your step-mother's age was also a concern - she was after all in her mid-forties at the time."

"But Phoebe said Davey wasn't hers," Tony said looking over at Gibbs in confusion. "I don't..."

"Phoebe?" Hilliard interrupted, looking a little bewildered himself. "No, no, I'm taking about Karen, your father's wife."

"Oh," Tony muttered as realisation dawned. "Karen was step-mom number four and Phoebe was number five. Dad was in the process of divorcing her when he died and I never did find out what happened to Karen."

Hilliard shook his head. "I'm sorry to hear that. Frankly, I never could understand your father's poor judgement when it came to choosing his women after your mother died. My wife Edith and I'll be celebrating fifty-two years together come October and when I met Karen I had every hope that your father had finally found someone he could be happy with."

Tony gave him a wan smile. "Yeah, she was the only step-mom I actually liked."

"Well anyhow, your father decided to go ahead with the reversal procedure and because of my concerns, we discussed a number of options open to them if they couldn't get pregnant naturally, covering everything from IVF to egg and sperm donation and even surrogacy. I referred them to a colleague of mine who specialises in fertility problems and it would seem they overcame the odds."

"But, you don't know what happened after the referral?" Tony pushed.

"I'm sorry, no," Hilliard admitted. "Unfortunately, I suffered a minor heart attack not long afterwards and my wife decided it was time I retired so we could take it easy and head for sunnier climes." He gave a wry smile. "Edith doesn't hang around when she gets a bee in her bonnet about something and she had us packed up and living in a gated community down here in Florida before I knew it.

"After that, I'm afraid your father and I lost touch. He'd never been great at keeping in contact and even though I tried, his constant travelling made it practically impossible."

"Tell me about it," Tony muttered running his fingers through his hair. "I appreciate you taking the time to talk to me Doctor Hilliard."

Hilliard looked concerned at Tony's troubled expression and offered, "I could contact the fertility specialist, if you'd like. I've known Drake Marston for years and I'm sure I could get him to bring me up to speed on the case."

"Um, can I get back to you about that?" Tony asked, needing time to gather his thoughts after all the information he'd just been given.

"By all means, Anthony. Your colleague has all my contact information. It was nice speaking with you. Take care."

As the doctor signed off, Tony closed the laptop and slid it onto the coffee table.

"Wow, Tony! Was your dad really married five times?" McGee asked looking shocked.

"Didn't they teach basic arithmetic at MIT, Probie? One mom and five step-moms makes six!" Tony snapped. He swiped his hand across his face angrily and then looked up at his friend. "Sorry Tim, sore point." Pasting a half-hearted smile on his face he said, "Did you know there's a woman in Indiana who's been married twenty-three times? Dad's measly six wouldn't even be a blip on her radar."

Before McGee could think of a reply, the penthouse door flew open and Davey came rushing in, his face flushed and a broad grin on his face.

"Tony! You're awake! You wanna see my new bike?" he cried excitedly, running over and almost throwing himself at his brother.

"Whoa there, we've gotta be careful for a little while longer until Tony's all better, remember?" Gibbs cautioned, catching him mid-jump.

"Oh!" Davey whispered looking stricken. "Sorry, so sorry! I didn't mean to!"

"Hey, don't worry, I'm fine," Tony said with a reassuring smile.

"I got a bike, Tony," Davey said in a subdued tone.

"I know, that's pretty cool, but I bet you could do with a nap right about now, huh?" Tony suggested. "You've had a busy day."

"Oh, um...I guess so," Davey replied hesitantly, looking hurt.

"Abby, would you do the honours and get Davey settled in his room?" Gibbs asked with a meaningful stare.

"Um, sure Boss-man, no problem," Abby agreed without question. As soon as she'd followed Davey into the apartment she'd picked up on the tense atmosphere and one look at Tony's face had been enough to let her know that whatever Senior's doctor had said, it wasn't welcome news.

Tony gave Davey a quick one handed hug and a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes before Abby led the little boy away and disappeared into his bedroom. He realised he couldn't maintain the happy façade any longer and he struggled to his feet, ignoring the pain of his protesting body. "I need to get out of here," he announced restlessly.

"Tony, you can't do that," McGee insisted, reaching over to lay a hand on his friend's arm.

"Don't you think I know that, McObvious!" Tony practically exploded, jerking away awkwardly and clutching his bruised ribs. "Doesn't change the way I feel though!" He stood there practically vibrating with frustration, his expression a strange mix of anger, sadness and pain. "I'm going to lie down," he said abruptly and turned to limp laboriously across the room.

"Tony!" McGee called after him, but the older man just ignored him, entering his own bedroom and closing the door.

"Let him go McGee, I'll talk to him," Gibbs ordered quietly, standing up and following his senior field agent. He tapped twice on the door and entered without waiting for Tony to respond.

"Don't worry, Timothy, Jethro will talk some sense into him," Ducky said reassuringly. "Tony's tired and hurting right now and he's having to deal with painful memories and feelings he's kept hidden since he was a child."

"But he practically ignored Davey when he came in and then damned near ordered him to take a nap. You could see the kid was excited about his new bike and wanted to talk about it and Tony just shut him down. It stinks, Ducky. You don't have to be related by blood to be family, yet he's pushing Davey away just because he might not be his biological brother!"

"Do you honestly think that's what Tony's doing, Timothy? You've known him for years, can you really believe that about him?"

"Well...not really," McGee admitted after taking a moment to think about it, "but I don't understand. 'Why's he acting this way?"

"Because he's terrified, Timothy!" Ducky insisted, shaking his head in exasperation. When it looked like McGee was about to disagree, the doctor held up his hand to stop him. "I consider myself a good judge of character and an adept profiler, yet young Anthony has wrong-footed me on more than one occasion over the years and caused me to re-evaluate my opinion of him a number of times. I suspected problems in his childhood but not the level of emotional neglect and abandonment we've just heard about and I think Tony holds the idea of family in such high esteem precisely because his own was so sadly lacking.

"As soon as he heard of little David's existence and realised what his step-mother's plans entailed, he immediately agreed to take the child, regardless of how the decision would impact on his life. David has managed to breach the formidable defences Tony's constructed to protect himself over the years, in mere days I might add, and now Tony is faced with the possibility of having no legal rights to the boy if the biological parents were to come forward."

"But his lawyer's drawing up adoption papers right now, Ducky. Once they're signed everything will be fine, surely?" McGee pointed out.

"I don't think it's as clear cut as that," Ducky said, with a worried frown. "The increase in litigation concerning disputes in surrogacy cases has highlighted a very muddy area where the law is concerned, although the courts do generally seem to have a bias in favour of biological parents. If Senior is the father, Tony has a genetic link to David and there would be a strong case for the brothers maintaining contact, even if the mother were to turn up and gain custody. However, without that link, Tony's position would be considerably weaker."

"I guess you're right, but even so, I've never seen Tony act this way before."

"That my dear boy is because he usually goes away to lick his wounds when he's hurting and only comes back when his trademark grin is firmly back in place, hoping no-one will be any the wiser. He also uses his running as a cathartic exercise to release tension as much as he uses it is to keep fit. This time, both options are not available and he's stuck here, cooped up with us feeling scared and vulnerable and he doesn't have anywhere to hide."

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As Gibbs entered the bedroom he found Tony standing awkwardly by the window, his forehead resting against the glass and his shoulders slumped in defeat. He didn't say a word but the younger man still knew who was there.

"I need to get out of here and just go...somewhere. Please Boss..." Tony almost begged.

"Don't do this," Gibbs urged, coming over and resting a hand on the back of Tony's neck. "You're jumping straight to the worst case scenario and not even considering that Senior really is Davey's father."

"C'mon Gibbs, the name Tony DiNozzo and good luck just don't go together! If anything can go wrong for me, it will. Do you know of anyone else who could get the damned pneumonic plague just sitting at his own desk for chrissakes!"

"And that's not lucky?" Gibbs asked mildly.

"What?" Tony turned to face his boss, obviously thrown by his reply.

"It could've been anthrax," Gibbs pointed out with a straight face and a little shrug of his shoulders.

Tony barked out a surprised laugh. "When did you become a glass is half full kinda guy? I think I missed the memo."

"Hey, I can be optimistic. I'm still holding out for the Pirates' next World Series win," Gibbs replied with a grin.

"Hate to break it to ya, Boss, but that's not optimistic, it's downright delusional," Tony said, trying to respond to Gibbs' attempt to lift his mood. "Based on their form over the last coupla decades, you've got more chance of Seabiscuit winning the Kentucky Derby this year."

"DiNozzo, Seabiscuit's been dead for over sixty years."

"Precisely," Tony replied with the hint of a smirk on his face. He sighed and eased himself into a chair by the window. "Why did I have to go snooping into my past? I should've just left well alone."

"C'mon Tony, you're a born investigator. It's what you do. You see a mystery and you want to get to the bottom of it."

"Yeah? If I'm so good, can you explain to me why I just had to sit through a family history lesson from a virtual stranger?" Tony asked wearily.

"Because your father was a selfish rat bastard?" Gibbs growled.

"I don't think he was," Tony disagreed. "At least I can understand why things were so messed up when I was a kid, now. I wish he could have trusted me enough to tell me the truth though, because I think we might've been able to get to know each other better. I always thought he didn't like me very much and he could only stand me in small doses, you know?"

Gibbs held his tongue and resisted the urge to shake his head in disbelief. Tony's capacity to beat himself up over his own perceived shortcomings, when he found it so easy to forgive others their own faults, never ceased to amaze him. Senior had swept into NCIS headquarters the year before, charming everyone around him whilst virtually ignoring his own son. He'd let Tony follow him around like a puppy eager for attention and had commanded his obedience with steely glares or a few stern words. The way he'd manipulated Tony spoke volumes.

"I wonder what would've happened if my mom had been able to have more kids? Do you think my parents would've stayed together and been happy?" Tony asked, almost wistfully.

"Don't go there Tony, it doesn't help," Gibbs advised. "You can waste years on what ifs and maybes and in the end it doesn't change anything."

"I guess not," Tony agreed with a heavy sigh. "You know, even if Senior turns out to be the dad, I don't think Karen's the mom. I only met her a few times but she really was a nice person and genuinely seemed to care – not like my other step-moms. I don't think she'd walk away from her own kid."

"We could track her down and ask," Gibbs suggested.

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Boss, I've had enough surprises this week to last me a lifetime. I'm thinking I should stop digging before I find any more family skeletons and pretend the last twenty-four hours never happened."

Gibbs gave him a sceptical look. "You really think you could do that, DiNozzo?"

The younger man scrubbed at his face with his good hand. "I could try."

"Not you, it's not your style," Gibbs disagreed. "You see a problem, you can't help but worry at it until you find a solution."

"What if there isn't one? What if me poking around means someone finds out what's happened and comes forward to take Davey away from me? I can't lose him Gibbs, I just can't!" Tony's desperation was palpable.

"We both know I can't promise that won't happen, however much I want to deny it," Gibbs said ignoring his protesting knees to crouch down in front of Tony. "But what I can promise is that me and the team will back you all the way in this thing. Whatever you decide and whatever happens, we've got your six."

"Yeah, I know that, Boss," Tony replied gratefully. He looked deep in thought for a few seconds before saying, "You know, it just occurred to me that we could find out if Senior is Davey's dad without contacting Karen or that specialist."

Gibbs gave him an 'atta boy' smile. "I told you you'd come up with something, DiNozzo. You just can't help yourself."

Tony grinned back and explained, " Abby ran a DNA test on Dad when she was keeping him entertained for us during his visit last year, so all we'd need to do is get Davey to take a swab test and send it back to the lab for Dex to run a comparison."

"That's a great idea," Gibbs agreed. "Things are quiet back at the Navy Yard, so Bowman should be able to get the results back to us tonight. Once we know where we stand, we can take it from there. If it's bad news, we can contact Warren Edmonds in the morning to check out where you stand legally and if he knows anything about this. As Ducky would say, forewarned is forearmed."

"Sounds like a plan," Tony replied, already looking more optimistic now he'd made a decision. "Now, if you'll help me up, I have to go apologise to my little brother for being a grumpy killjoy."

"Only if you help me first," Gibbs countered with a grimace, still crouched in front of the younger man.

They shared a knowing look and shouted in unison. "McGee!"

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When Tony and Gibbs finally emerged from the bedroom it was to discover that, after a few tears and cuddles, Davey had fallen asleep and hadn't yet woken up. Tony looked like a kicked puppy at the news and insisted on taking a dose of his stronger pain meds, much to the surprise of his friends. However, he was determined to make up for his behaviour earlier and he knew he couldn't do that if he was in a lot of pain. When Davey awoke, he'd find his big brother was happy to see him and ready for some fun.

In the meantime, Gibbs sat everyone around the table and explained what they'd decided to do next. Abby carefully collected a sample of DNA from the sleeping child and was eager to head over to her lab to run the tests herself. Gibbs vetoed the idea immediately and insisted Bowman was more than capable of doing the job without her. If there was any chance some of Gallo's men were watching the Navy Yard, he didn't want her in the line of fire. As luck would have it, Davey's boxes arrived just in time for the junior agent who'd been given the task of delivering them to take the sample back with him.

Then all they had to do was sit and wait for the phone to ring.

Davey woke up a little while later and Tony gave an Oscar winning performance as the goofy older brother without a care in the world. He apologised for his earlier behaviour and admitted he should have listened to Ducky and taken his pain pills, because now he had, he felt much better. Davey eagerly offered a forgiving hug and they settled down to the movie night they'd postponed from the previous evening.

Everyone made an effort to be as upbeat as possible, helped along by the choice of the movie. If ever there was a film made to satisfy the pop culture reference junky it had to be 'Shrek' and Tony took centre stage identifying even the most obscure allusion. Davey happily giggled and laughed along, even when he seemed more bewildered than amused and he obviously loved Donkey. Abby made a mental note to buy one of the stuffed toys for her honorary nephew to start replacing the ones that had been destroyed.

Davey's bedtime came and went and still there was no phone call. Tony managed to keep up his happy act until after the little boy was asleep, but now he was struggling to hide his worry. He couldn't help glancing over at the phone every couple of minutes and had even asked McGee to test the line a couple of times. Suddenly it started to ring and Tony jumped at the noise, no longer sure he wanted to answer it.

Abby took the decision out of his hands and rushed to pick up the receiver. "Dex, is that you?" she asked eagerly and then nodded to the others who were watching her anxiously. "Oh," she said quietly, her body stilling as she listened to the news. What followed was a number of single words, phrases and short sentences interspersed with long worrying pauses, "What! How can that be? Are you sure? There's no possibility you mixed the samples? Oh yeah, I wasn't thinking. Well, thanks Dex, I'll tell the others." She finally looked over to the others, a puzzled look on her face. "Dex says to say 'hi'" she said.

"Abby! What did he say about the test?" Gibbs demanded, looking over at Tony who was obviously fearing the worst.

"Senior is not Davey's father," she announced, seemingly stunned by what she had to share.

At her words, Tony's heart sank. "Well that's it then, looks like I've got to put my faith in Warren's expertise if the worst comes to the worst.

"But there's more," Abby insisted.

"Abs, if you're about to tell me Senior's not even my dad, Gibbs won't need a lawyer to draw up papers to get me committed – I'll gladly march up to the doors of Happy Dale and sign in myself!"

"No, no, that's not it," Abby assured him with a smile and an eager bounce, getting more excited by the second. "I don't know how it's even possible, but Dex has run the tests like a dozen times and it's conclusive. There was a familial link between Senior and Davey, but not enough of a match for father and son." Abby paused, apparently enjoying the dramatic moment and her smile widened into an almost manic grin. "He had a hunch and ran another DNA profile we already have in the database and it was a match!"

"You know who the real father is?"

"I certainly do," Abby agreed gleefully. "It's you Tony!"

TBC


	16. Chapter 16

There couldn't have been a more marked contrast between Abby's almost exuberant excitement and the stunned silence that fell across the rest of the room at her words. All eyes turned towards Tony, who was sitting there as still as a statue, his mouth occasionally opening and closing in a fair imitation of a goldfish; his pale face a study in confusion.

"What?" he finally managed to croak, sub-consciously waiting for the theme tune to 'The Twilight Zone' to start at any second. His brain seemed to have seized up and he struggled to make sense of what was going on around him. Everything appeared to be moving in slow motion except for Abby, who seemed to be out of step with the rest of them and was bouncing up and down like a maniacally surreal jack-in-a-box, clapping her hands together gleefully. His eyes tracked across the faces of the rest of the team and he was vaguely aware of his own shock and confusion reflected in their eyes. "What?" he managed to say again, a little stronger this time.

"Abigail," Ducky admonished gently, "I really don't think Tony is feeling up to any high-jinx right now, however funny you may think it is."

"Yeah, Abby. I don't think you should be joking about this," McGee muttered looking very uncomfortable.

"Oh Tony, I'd never do that to you!" Abby insisted, looking hurt that the others would even suggest such a thing. "It's true, I swear! Dex was so shocked he did run the tests like a dozen times, well maybe not a dozen, but a whole bunch anyway and then he tracked the chain of evidence, which admittedly was only from me to Agent Poulter to Dex and well, it wasn't really evidence from a case, although technically speaking this all came about because of an open case, just not an NCIS one and it's not really relevant to the outcome of the investigation, although it's like hugely important to us!" She finally paused for breath. "Honest Tony, Davey truly is your son. Dex was so thorough he even cross-referenced the original DNA profile we have on file for you with the one I took when Chip tried to frame you and I was really kinda clutching at straws hoping someone had tampered with evidence, which he had but not in the way I thought..."

"But how is that even possible?" McGee asked, in an attempt to stop Abby's rambling.

"Twins have the same DNA profile," Abby pointed out. "Remember the case where that Laura Seeger woman and her evil twin killed her husband and tried to hide the fact it was them by killing other men and making it look like there was a serial killer on the loose?"

"Sure I remember, but c'mon Abs, an evil twin?" McGee replied sceptically. "And even if that were remotely possible, Davey wouldn't be Tony's son or brother. He'd be his nephew."

"Oh...I hadn't thought of that," Abby admitted, sounding less sure of herself for a few seconds before seeming to get her second wind. "But it could happen, right? I mean we're already way into the realms of 'Days Of Our Lives' here, don't you think? If you don't like the twin idea, maybe Tony's dad bribed an evil health care professional to steal some sperm from him." She turned her attention back to Tony. "Do you remember losing any time, maybe over a weekend, about four and a half to five years ago?"

Tony looked up with a dazed expression on his face. He'd only been following the conversation with half an ear because his thoughts were all over the place. On the one hand there was part of him thinking, he's your son, you have a son! No-one can take him away from you now. Davey's yours! But on the other, the logical, Federal agent inside of him wasn't so sure. How could that be possible? How could something like this happen? It couldn't, there was just no way – was there?

"Tony, are you okay?" Gibbs asked, moving to sit next to the younger man.

"Huh? Oh sure, I'm fine," Tony replied, still sounding distracted. "I'm just having a little trouble believing it's true, that's all."

"Tony, good forensics never lies and Dex is one of the best at what he does, so you can believe it," Abby assured him. "Davey's definitely your son and now all we have to do is figure out how. I was just wondering if your dad might have paid someone to steal your sperm, 'cause they could've drugged your water, or flooded your apartment with knock-out gas, then sneaked in and done the deed."

Tony gave an involuntary shudder at that idea and tried to cover his reaction with a joke. "Or maybe I was abducted by aliens who experimented on me and..."

"Oooh and then they cloned you, so Davey really could be your mini-me!" Abby interrupted, her eyes practically starting to glow at the possibilities. "I've got to check Dex's results and see just how perfect a match the DNA really is!"

"One more word Abby and I'm revoking your Caff-Pow privileges!" Gibbs threatened with an exasperated sigh. Their forensic scientist could be endearingly wacky sometimes, especially when her imagination decided to go wild, but he could see through Tony's attempts at humour and enough was enough.

"Quite so, Jethro," Ducky agreed calmly. "Abigail's flights of fancy are very entertaining, however I think we need to consider more plausible explanations. Perhaps Anthony has had cause to provide a sperm sample during a physical in the past?"

"Or perhaps one of his many lady friends became pregnant and went to his father for help, yes?" Ziva chipped in with a smirk.

"For your information Zee-va, I think Ducky's right," Tony said as a missing piece of the puzzle suddenly fell into place at the doctor's words. "I donated sperm a couple of times when I was a freshman at Ohio State," he admitted.

"Tony, I did not mean anything..."

"Yes, you did Ziva and I can usually take it, but not now, okay?" Tony asked wearily. "I may have dated a lot, but I'm not a complete idiot. I've always practised safe sex - no drunken rolls in the hay without protection and no burst condoms. I sold some sperm as a nineteen year old kid so I could stay in school. It's not a crime. A full scholarship and a part-time job still made it hard to make ends meet and donating sperm paid over three times more than giving blood."

"So your dad really did cut you off without a dime?" McGee asked.

"Who knows, Probie?" Tony replied trying to sound nonchalant. "He made it clear he wouldn't fund my education after I graduated from the military academy and at the time I thought it was because I'd decided to study Phys Ed instead of Business and he didn't approve. Now I think maybe he was strapped for cash and couldn't afford it.

"Anyway, that's irrelevant," he continued, trying to get back to the matter at hand. "Not long after Ziva first joined NCIS, I got a registered letter from the sperm bank in Columbus asking me to contact them and when I eventually got to speak to someone there, they told me my sperm was part of a batch that had been stolen and they were legally obliged to let me know."

"You told me no one wanted your sperm!" Ziva accused.

"Because you tricked me into it and I jumped to that conclusion without having all the information!" Tony replied angrily. "At first, I thought they must have made a mistake. I mean, if someone called you twenty years after you'd made a deposit to say your sample had been stolen, wouldn't you think the same thing? It could only have been stolen if it was still there, so the only assumption I could make was that no-one wanted it. They assured me there was no mistake and asked if it would be a problem for me to meet with one of the company's attorneys at an office on L street Northwest a few days later and I said no, because I knew I could make the appointment. Then because we were at a crime scene at the time, I said thank you and hung up.

"At the meeting the attorney told me they suspected one of the lab techs had been responsible for the theft, but the police couldn't trace him or the stolen samples and they didn't think they'd ever be recovered. She apologised and said she understood how devastated I must feel and asked if I was considering legal action."

Tony paused and ran his hand through his hair. "I gotta admit I thought they'd brought back 'Candid Camera' there for a while. I mean, I donated the stuff twenty years ago, what difference did it make to me? When I said that to her, she seemed relieved and asked me when I'd decided not to have kids." He paused again and gave a wry smile. "Funny after what's happened now, huh? Anyway, I must've looked confused because she explained that I'd been taken off the register back in '92 and my file had been updated to show the sperm was to be saved for my own personal use due to medical reasons. Once we established someone must have made an administrative error, I signed some kind of disclaimer for her and left. I never gave it another thought - until now."

"Why did you not tell me about this after your meeting?" Ziva asked petulantly.

"Frankly? Because it was non of your business and I thought you'd scored enough cheap points off me at the time of the call."

Ziva looked taken aback by Tony's uncharacteristic bluntness and held her tongue.

"See, my ideas weren't so off the wall after all, were they?" Abby exclaimed with an accompanying bounce. "It's just that your sperm was kidnapped instead of you!"

"Yeah," Tony agreed with that half-hearted attempt at a smile Gibbs was beginning to hate. "I guess Doc Hilliard was right about dad needing donor sperm."

"And it looks like he decided to keep it in the family," Gibbs observed wryly.

"What I don't understand is how my dad found out I'd even visited a sperm bank, never mind which one." Tony mused out loud.

"Good questions," Ducky agreed, looking thoughtful, "but ones I think can wait until tomorrow for us to ponder further. It's getting late and I really must take my leave."

"I will walk you to your car, Ducky," Ziva offered, thankful for the chance to escape the apartment for a while.

"Why thank you my dear," Ducky said as he collected his coat and waved goodbye to the others.

Gibbs watched them go and then signed something to Abby, who gave him a quick nod.

"C'mon Timmy, I haven't been out for days, lets go for a walk around the block and clear the cobwebs!" She linked his arm and dragged him to the door before he had a chance to reply. "Be back in a while!" she called over her shoulder.

"Thanks, Boss," Tony groaned as he settled back on the sofa and closed his eyes. "Man, I've got that old Johnny Nash song playing over and over in my head. You know, the one that goes, 'There are more questions than answers and the more I find out the less I know.'"

"Well, it definitely sums up the situation," Gibbs commented with a quirk of his lips. "Want to talk about it?"

"Aw c'mon, Boss, you don't want to talk about the 'F' word do you? I've been blabbing so much personal stuff this last week I'm starting to wonder if Ducky's laced my meds with sodium pentothal. Talking feelings is definitely not top of my 'to do' list right now," Tony replied sounding weary down to his bones. "Christ, I still can't believe I told McGee about the fantasy life I'd constructed for my dad when I was a kid. How embarrassing is that?"

"McGee didn't seem to have a problem with it," Gibbs said. "Like he said, I think he appreciated you trusting him enough to confide in him. Get used to it DiNozzo, despite your many flaws, we like having you around."

Tony could hear the smile in Gibbs' voice and opened his eyes enough to squint suspiciously over at him. "Are you sure you're not a pod person?"

Gibbs gave him a crooked grin, "Nah, I doubt they're big on carpentry and I've got the skeleton of my next boat down in the basement if you want confirmation. There's no room for any pods."

Tony grinned back. It was a few minutes before he spoke again.

"You know, I really appreciate all the support Davey and I've been getting but we can't stay here forever. Gallo has time on his side and he could disappear for years before he makes his move. I mean look how long he waited to get his revenge on Buchetta. I think we're gonna have to flush him out."

"Just what do you have in mind, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked suspiciously. "If you're intending to use yourself as bait to lure him into the open, the answer's no. You're in no shape to put yourself in harm's way, it's too dangerous."

"C'mon Boss! This is no way for any of us to live, much less Davey! He needs fresh air and sunshine and a chance to play with other kids," Tony insisted with a bullish look on his face.

"And just what do you plan to do if things go wrong? I don't think falling over on top of them and hitting them on the head with your cast would be considered a very effective defence, do you?"

"Well obviously I haven't thought about the specifics," Tony admitted. "If we all put our heads together we should be able to come up with a viable plan that doesn't include any more bodily harm. I gotta say, I'm all in favour of a pain free resolution to the situation."

"Look, it's only been a week and Fornell's men are working on some solid leads. Let's give the FBI time to investigate and see what happens. You need to concentrate on getting better and settling your son into your life. If there's no progress in a couple more weeks, when you're recovered, we'll reconsider. Deal?"

"I don't know, Boss. In another couple of days I'm gonna be climbing the walls in this place and if I spill my guts about any more personal stuff I might just have to duct tape my mouth shut!"

Gibbs sat looking thoughtful. "Well, how about if we just take off and hole up somewhere safe for the duration of your recovery and then see how things pan out?"

"And just where would this safe place be?"

"How about staying with my dad in Stillwater? I know he'd love to have us and I can't think of a place less likely to have any mob connections, can you? The media haven't cottoned on to your existence and even if that dumb security guard let slip about Davey's existence, they haven't mentioned it since. It'd be the perfect short-term solution."

"I don't know," Tony replied sounding uneasy. "I don't want to put your dad in any danger."

"My dad's a tough old coot who knows how to handle an old Winchester," Gibbs pointed out with a smile. "I'm sure he'd be angry if he thought he could've helped and we didn't ask him. Besides, he's great with little kids and I'm sure he'd love having Davey running around the place for a while."

"I guess," Tony agreed, although he didn't sound too convinced. "I wonder what he's gonna think when he finds out I have a kid? He can't be more surprised than me!" He paused and looked over at one of the bedroom doors. "I'm just gonna check on Davey before I turn in, okay?"

"Sure. I'll just grab a drink and hit the rack too." Gibbs pulled the younger man to his feet and watched him walk across the room. "Hey, you seem to be moving a little easier," he observed.

"Yeah, I think I'm starting to feel the benefit of that PT session," Tony replied with a smile. "I'll be out-pacing octogenarians by the end of the week!"

The two men shared a grin and Gibbs headed for the kitchen. "See you in the morning, DiNozzo."

"Not if I see you first," Tony dead-panned, opening the door to Davey's room.

He crept quietly inside and eased himself down onto a chair by the bed. The night light Abby had insisted on cast a gentle glow across the sleeping child and Tony stared down at him in awe. This was his son! He reached out to reposition the covers from where they'd been partially kicked off and carefully swept a few stray hairs away from Davey's eyes. A soft snuffling sound made Tony still immediately, afraid he'd woken him up, but the little boy settled within seconds.

"Hey there, I'm your dad," Tony whispered quietly, his heart fluttering in both excitement and fear at the sound of the word. "Your grand-father really screwed us over buddy, but I wouldn't change a thing if it means I get to have you in my life. I hope you'll feel the same way too, in time. I'll try my best to be a good dad and I'll always look out for you and keep you safe, I promise. We may have an unconventional family, but they all love you already and that's what's important. They'll help me make sure you grow up knowing that you're loved and wanted and that's a great gift Davey, believe me.

"I can be a bit of an idiot sometimes and I'm new to all this parenthood stuff, so you're gonna have to be patient with me and forgive me when I mess up, okay? I don't think Boss will let me go too far off the rails though because he's great with kids and he'll have our six."

Tony sat there for a while deep in thought, his hand resting on the bed. "I've gotta go now," he eventually whispered as he got up and bent down to kiss Davey's forehead. "I love you, son." Before he turned to leave, a tall figure by the door swiftly moved away and disappeared into one of the other bedrooms before he could be seen.

Tony made his way back to his own room and entered without putting on the light. He went to stand over by the window, looking out at the city lights. He felt exhausted, but knew he wouldn't be able to sleep if he went to bed. The beginnings of a plan to deal with Gallo and keep Davey safe had begun to form as he'd watched the child sleeping. Sure, it carried its risks and Gibbs was gonna rip him a new one when he found out, but the kamikaze nature of the thing might just pique Gallo's interest enough to make him break cover.

"Just call me Will Kane," Tony muttered to himself as he made up his mind what to do. An image of the iconic scene from 'High Noon' when Gary Cooper walked alone down the deserted main street to face his enemies flashed into his head. "Sorry Boss, I can't have you watching my six on this one. I'll need you to take care of Davey if anything goes wrong."

He grabbed his cell phone from the night-stand and scrolled through to a number he'd only recently added. It's now or never he thought as he pressed to make the call.

"Hey, it's Anthony DiNozzo," he said quietly when someone picked up. "Look I know I'm the last person you expected to hear from but we need to talk. Are you interested?" Tony listened intently to the person on the other end of the line and then said, "Okay, this is what I was thinking..."

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By mid-morning the next day, most of the team and Davey had finished breakfast and settled down to different activities. Gibbs stared up at the clock on the wall.

"McGee, have you finished those background checks yet?" he asked.

"I was just about to print them out now," McGee replied. "The information I've found pretty much backs up everything Romano gave us. When do you think we'll hear back from Fornell about what they found at Tony's dad's places?"

"Oh I'm sure Tobias will take his own sweet time, as usual, and then offer the bare minimum of information to try and fob us off," Gibbs said with a wry smile. He stared up at the clock on the wall again. "When you've finished with that, go drag your co-worker's lazy ass out of bed, will you? His physical therapist will be here soon."

"Sure Boss," McGee agreed, pressing another few keys to send his report to the printer next to the computer. As it started to hum and the typed pages began to appear, Tim walked over to Tony's room, knocked and entered. Less than a minute later, he re-emerged looking worried. "Um, Boss? Tony's not here."

"What do you mean, 'Tony's not here'? The man can barely walk!" Gibbs growled angrily, striding towards the bedroom. "Did you check the bathroom?"

"Gee, I hadn't thought of that!" McGee snapped, regretting the words as soon as they'd left his mouth. "Sorry Boss, I think Tony was right about this place sending you stir crazy."

Gibbs just glared back as he stalked past and checked the rooms out for himself. When there was no sign of his senior field agent, he dropped down heavily onto the bed and scrubbed his face with his hands. There was no point in checking out the rest of the penthouse because there was nowhere the rest of the team hadn't been that morning. Tony must have sneaked out before anyone else got up.

"Dammit, I should've known he agreed to wait far too easily!" he grumbled to himself. "DiNozzo, if you're out there doing what I think you're doing, I'm gonna kick your ass from here to Stillwater when I catch up with you!"

TBC


	17. Chapter 17

“Good morning everyone!” Ducky greeted brightly as he breezed into the apartment just as Gibbs and McGee re-emerged from Tony's room. “Oh,” he said in surprise as he looked around and noted the worried expressions on everyone's faces. “Is Tony alright? Is he still in bed? His physical therapist was just parking her car as I entered the building and I expect she'll be here any minute.”

“Well it looks like she's had a wasted journey then, because DiNozzo's gone,” Gibbs growled. “He sneaked out some time during the night.”

“But why on Earth would he do such a thing?” Ducky exclaimed. “The poor boy is in no condition to be out and about!”

“I know that Duck, but he's a damned fool who doesn't know his own limitations!” Gibbs replied angrily. “He nearly died a few days ago and last night he told me he wanted to offer himself up as bait to lure Gallo out of hiding, for God's sake! I thought I'd convinced him to wait until he'd healed, but he played me!” He turned to McGee. “Go tell the therapist she's not needed and check with the others to find out how a badly injured man managed to slip out past supposedly highly trained Federal agents!”

“On it, Boss,” McGee acknowledged as he turned to leave.

“Gibbs, you're scaring Davey,” Abby admonished quietly, nodding over to where the little boy had stopped colouring and was anxiously listening to their conversation.

“Tony's gone? Did he leave me?” he asked barely above a whisper when he noticed the others watching him. His bottom lip began to quiver and his eyes sparkled as tears threatened to fall.

Gibbs' anger was immediately replaced by concern and he walked over to the table. “Sorry kiddo, I didn't mean to scare you,” he apologised, picking Davey up and holding him close. “I'm sure Tony will be back soon.”

“But you're real mad at him, Boss,” Davey whispered into Gibbs' neck as he clung on, seeking comfort.

“Yes, I am, but only because I'm a little worried about him and I wanted to help him with some important business he wanted to sort out,” Gibbs explained. He took a seat and settled the child on his lap, admitting, if only to himself, that 'a little worried' was definitely the understatement of the century.

“Father went away to do 'portant stuff all the time,” Davey observed sadly. “My Maria said he was real busy an' if it wasn't real 'portant he would have stayed more.”

The three adults shared knowing looks and Abby crouched down in front of him. She really wished she could give in to the urge to freak out about Tony's disappearance, but now was not the time; Davey needed reassurance.

“You know, Tony's only gonna be gone for a little while because he wants to make sure the chicken man doesn't bother any of us any more,” she explained with a smile. “Then,when he gets back, we can all go home. We'll be able to go to the park and play and you can show him how well you can ride your new bike.”

Instead of being reassured by Abby's words, Davey cuddled closer to Gibbs and whispered, “The chicken man is a bad, bad man. He hates DiNozzos, he said so. He did.”

“Don't worry, that's why I'm going to go get McGee and Ziva and we're gonna find Tony and help him. You'll be safe here with Abby and Ducky until we get back. Do you remember what I said we do to bad guys?”

Davey looked up and nodded solemnly. “Uh, huh. We eat 'em for breakfast an' Tony says nobody messes with us.”

“That's right,” Gibbs agreed placing a kiss on the little boy's head. “We'll all be back soon, I promise.”

“Yeah,” Abby said brightly as he handed Davey over to her. “Gibbs is gonna fricassee that nasty ol' chicken man and get Tony back here pronto!”

Gibbs smiled, put a gentle hand on Davey's head and kissed Abby on the cheek. “I'll call as soon as I know anything,” he promised. “You'll look after Abby for me while I'm gone, won't you?”

Davey nodded his head as it lay on Abby's shoulder. He looked sad and upset, but he was valiantly trying not to cry as he watched Boss turn away and head for the door.

Once Gibbs stepped out into the hallway, he found McGee waiting for him with the probie from Agent O'Brien's team.

“Boss, it looks like Tony was aware of the changeover schedule of the protection details and took advantage of the distraction to slip away at about four this morning,” McGee reported grimly. “Agent Becker here was running a couple of minutes late and met Tony by the elevator. He spun her a line about needing to stretch his legs because he was having muscle cramps and exercising inside the apartment might have disturbed the rest of us. She was in a rush to attend the handover briefing and took him at his word, never imagining he'd want to leave the floor.”

“I'm so sorry Agent Gibbs,” Becker said contritely. “When the briefing finished and I noticed Agent DiNozzo had disappeared, I just assumed he'd gone back to bed.”

Gibbs' face looked like thunder. Sometimes Tony was just too clever for his own good. He glared at the young woman in front of him. “When this is all over, we'll be having a long talk about assumptions,” he growled as he stalked down the hallway to the elevator, McGee following on his heels.

Amanda Becker watched them go with a huge sigh of relief and, not for the first time, thanked all that was holy that she had not been assigned to Special Agent Gibbs' team.

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It was later the same day that Tony found himself in the back of a DC taxicab travelling on a deserted back road outside Fredericksberg, Virginia. He'd had a frustrating morning trying to contact the individuals Joey Romano's statement had identified as associates of Gallo and attempting to persuade just one of them to put him in touch with the man himself. Finally, a little after two o'clock, his perseverance had paid off and he'd managed to speak to someone who'd agreed to act as an intermediary. After going to and fro on the telephone for another hour or so, a meeting had been arranged and he'd been instructed to wait for a cab outside the Marriott hotel on Pennsylvania Avenue at five.

Tony closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of the car seat, willing some of the tension out of his body. He never travelled well unless he sat in the front and the nauseous feeling he'd been experiencing was building steadily. He felt achy and tired and the whole combination made him wish he could just go home and crawl into bed for a week. He fervently hoped the meds he'd agreed to take would see him through the upcoming confrontation, because he suspected it would take everything he had to sell his story to Gallo.

Suddenly the cab pulled up at the side of the road and the driver announced, “We're here.”

Tony opened his eyes and peered out of the window but all he could see was open fields with the odd tree here and there.

“And just where would here be?” he asked with a frown. “Maybe your dispatcher got the address wrong because, well...there is no address.”

“Look pal, I'm an independent. I get the calls and go where the customer tells me. The guy who phoned told me to pick you up outside the Marriott, drive up the I95 and drop you off by the old Danbury Vineyard here by seven this evening. He said you weren't interested in small talk and just to drive.” The man gestured to the open ground next to the cab. “The old vineyard was right there and according to my watch, we're here with five minutes to spare. Mission accomplished.”

Tony gave a wry smile. So that explained the lack of conversation and why the ride had been more like a scene from 'Driving Miss Daisy' than the usual frenetic dash from 'A' to 'B'. The guy had been wasting time.

“So, do I pay you, or what?” he asked, wondering how much a journey lasting almost two hours would actually cost.

“Nah, already taken care of,” the man drawled, staring pointedly at the door.

“Oh, okay. Thanks,” Tony muttered, gingerly easing himself out of the cab. As the car pulled away, he stood there indecisively; what was he supposed to do now? There was an old dirt road off to his left that seemed to lead to a couple of dilapidated buildings in the distance and he wondered whether he should stay where he was or head in that direction.

As the light began to fade, the temperature started to drop dramatically and a strong breeze cut straight through the lightweight suit Tony had changed into earlier. It wasn't up to his usual high standards and the cheaper cloth was no defence against the chill of the Spring evening. He pulled up the collar of his jacket and wished he'd thought to bring an overcoat.

Scanning up and down the deserted road, Tony had a really strong feeling of deja-vu. “Anthony, if a crop duster suddenly appears now with evil intentions, you are well and truly screwed,” he mumbled, as the memory of a similar scene from 'North by North-West' popped into his head. Just as the words left his mouth he heard a strange low hum in the air around him and he sighed dramatically. “You couldn't keep your big mouth shut, could you?” he groaned, “you just had to go and tempt fate.”

As the noise came closer, Tony's nervousness increased even more when he realised it was the distinctive sound of rotor blades from an approaching helicopter, flying low across the fields towards him. All of a sudden an attack from a vintage plane seemed infinitely more preferable to facing down a modern day helicopter. Tony knew how vulnerable he was just standing there, but what else could he do? He'd dispensed with the strapping to his shoulder, unwilling to meet his father's murderer with such a disadvantage, but even with that and the heavy duty meds, he was in no shape to run.

Thankfully the pilot chose that moment to start throttling back and the helicopter began to descend into the adjacent field. As soon as it touched down, a door slid open and a large man quickly got out, bending low against the downdraught as he ran towards Tony's position.

“You Anthony DiNozzo?” he asked hurriedly, looking nervously up and down the road.

Tony fought to keep his expression neutral and reined in the half dozen sarcastic replies that popped into his head as the adrenalin still rushed through his body. The situation was dangerous enough without antagonising the hired muscle but why the hell else would he be standing in the middle of nowhere with sundown fast approaching! He gave a jerky nod of his head.

“Mr Gallo sent us to take you to him,” Mr Obvious said pointing to the helicopter. “Follow me.”

Tony did his best to keep up with the burly man as they made their way across the uneven ground. Once they reached the helicopter, a door behind the pilot's slid open to reveal another man inside. He held out a hand to Tony who grabbed it gratefully and allowed himself to be pulled inside.

“Welcome Mr DiNozzo, I'm Howard Braxton, Mr Gallo's personal assistant,” the new man said by way of a greeting. “It's a pleasure to meet you.”

Tony gave the man an assessing look as they shook hands, wishing the feeling was mutual. “Does your boss usually make a habit of wasting other people's time?” he asked, looking around the luxurious interior. Braxton looked puzzled and Tony elaborated, “If you have access to such a fancy helo, why the long, slow drive out here? You coulda picked me up at any number of small airfields between here and DC. There's no need for all this cloak and dagger crap.”

“I beg to differ,” Braxton replied with an oily smile. “Mr Gallo's caution has served him well over the years and as you're a Federal agent I'm sure you'll appreciate his scepticism at your willingness to do business with him. We've been tracking your progress the whole way to ensure you were not being followed and now....” he broke off, turning to open an overhead locker and taking out a large holdall. “Now I need to ask you to remove your outer clothing, tie and shoes and place them in this bag please. I'll also need your belt, watch and any items of jewellery you're wearing. They will be returned to you after your meeting with Mr Gallo, if things go well.”

“Are you serious? Why would you want me to strip?” Tony asked suspiciously, trying not to dwell on the implication of what would happen if the meeting didn't go well. It seemed obvious he would not be needing his possessions back if that were the case.

“Come now, Mr DiNozzo, it's not an unreasonable request,” Braxton insisted. “We both know tracking devices have become increasingly more sophisticated in recent years. We're just being thorough and it's not like I'm asking you to walk around naked.” He gave Tony's body an assessing look and popped open another compartment. Riffling through the pile of clothes inside, he pulled out a pair of jeans, a white shirt and pale green cable-knit sweater and placed them on a seat. “These should fit. Shoe size?”

“Um, t-twelve,” Tony stuttered, covering a insane urge to laugh as a third compartment was opened to reveal about twenty neatly stacked shoe boxes. He suddenly had a weird mental image of Gallo's assistant as a travelling salesman, flying around the country in the world's first helicopter boutique supplying clothes and designer shoes to people living out in the sticks.

Braxton selected one of the boxes and pulled it out. “There you go,” he said turning back to Tony and offering him the shoes. “Come on, Mr DiNozzo, the quicker you get changed the quicker we can be on our way,” he added when Tony made no attempt to move.

“Fine!” Tony agreed grudgingly. “But you're gonna have to help me and I'd just like to say, this is not the best way to impress a new business associate!”

Braxton shrugged. “Needs must, Mr DiNozzo. Mr Gallo pays me a great deal of money to anticipate all possible threats to his safety and I don't take that responsibility lightly.”

“Wow!” he exclaimed once Tony had stripped to his boxers and socks. “Mr Gallo said you'd been in an accident, but we didn't think you could have been too badly hurt when you suggested a meeting. Your bruises really are quite spectacular.”

“Yeah, well, could we move this along a little faster?” Tony asked with a shiver. “To say this looks like a top of the line helo, it doesn't kick out a lot of heat does it? You should get your boss to complain to the manufacturers about that and....”

“Just one more thing before you get dressed,” the other man interrupted , producing a hand-held scanner and starting to run it over Tony's body. Once he reached Tony's left arm, he took his time covering every square inch of the cast in case it had been tampered with.

“You sure you don't want to cut it off just to make sure?” Tony snarked, shivering in earnest now. He switched to his best Sean Connery voice. “You know, it's quite possible Q hid one of his super-secret spy gizmos in there when I wasn't looking and I wouldn't want you to get into any trouble.”

“No, this will suffice,” Braxton said evenly, ignoring the sarcasm. He discarded the scanner and zipped up the holdall containing Tony's possessions before handing it through the open door to Mr Obvious. “Your ride will be here in a couple of minutes,” he informed his colleague. “If you suspect you're being followed, dump the bag and deny everything if you're picked up. Mr Gallo's lawyers will sort any legal difficulties out within twenty-four hours.”

“No problem, you can count on me,” the other man replied before securing the door from the outside.

Once Tony was dressed and settled in one of the seats, Braxton informed the pilot they were ready to leave and they lifted off almost immediately. The helicopter stayed close enough to the ground for Tony to make out a number of distinguishing features in the landscape and from the position of the sun before darkness fell completely, it looked like they were heading North. As he sat there staring out into the night sky, he couldn't help wondering if it was a bad sign that he hadn't been blindfolded for the journey. The feeling of nausea rose again and he fervently hoped one of Braxton's well stocked compartments contained vomit bags.

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Tony was dozing fitfully in his seat when there was a beep and the pilot announced they were approaching their destination. He roused himself and tried to work some of the kinks out of his back caused by sleeping in such an awkward position. To be honest he felt like crap and to add to his other woes, his head now felt as if it was stuffed with cotton and his mouth was as dry as dust. He'd known Gibbs was right when he'd pointed out Tony wasn't physically well enough to take on Gallo, but the whole plan depended on acting as quickly as possible.

“Here,” Braxton said holding out a bottle. “I don't know about you but air travel always makes me thirsty.

“Thanks,” Tony managed to croak and took a generous swig of water. “What time is it?”

“Five after eight. We should be on the ground in the next couple of minutes. Mr Gallo is waiting for us.”

Tony nodded his head and glanced out of the window to see the lights of a sprawling metropolis below them.

“New York?” he asked in surprise. “I was thinking more along the lines of a secret compound in the Nevada desert or something.”

Braxton smiled broadly. “Now who's indulging in clichés from spy movies, Mr DiNozzo! No, that would be too far away from the action for Mr Gallo. Even though he's careful to keep a very low profile, he's definitely a 'hands on' kind of boss and over the years, his become a master of hiding in plain sight.” He paused and stared out of the window at an approaching skyscraper. “Hold on tight. We're there and the winds at this altitude can make landings a little bumpy.”

Tony gripped his seat with his good hand and after being buffeted around a little, the helicopter landed safely. Someone opened the outer door and they stepped onto the roof, quickly making their way to an elevator directly in front of them. The freezing cold wind whipped across the exposed roof and for the second time that day, Tony regretted not having an overcoat to wear. Fortunately they didn't have long to wait before the elevator doors opened and they could step inside. Less than thirty seconds later the doors opened again and they arrived in a large, brightly decorated foyer.

Huh, who needed a front door when you could take an elevator ride straight into your penthouse, Tony thought absently as he was led through the suite of rooms. The place had an overstated opulence about it that was hard to ignore, with its high, vaulted ceilings, huge windows covered in luxurious drapes and extravagant crystal chandeliers. The furnishings were large and undoubtedly expensive, but there was something about it all that screamed of someone trying too hard to impress.

Braxton stopped before a heavy oak door and knocked twice before entering. Tony followed close behind and got his first glimpse of Giovanni Gallo when he stepped into the mobster's study. The man sat behind an imposing mahogany desk in what could only be describes as a huge and overly ornate throne.

“Welcome to my parlour....” Tony muttered to himself as Gallo's cold and calculating eyes made contact with his own. No wonder Davey had been so scared of this man. Hatred seemed to radiate from his very core and Tony's stomach suddenly lurched with the realisation that Gallo had no intention of letting him leave that room alive.

TBC.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18  
Gibbs snatched the glasses from his face and threw them down onto his desk in disgust. He leaned back in his chair and vigorously massaged his aching eyes: They'd been working flat out all afternoon trying to find Tony and all they had to show for it was one possible sighting in the early hours of the morning.

Agents canvassing the area around the apartment had found a couple who'd returned home from vacation at around four-thirty. They'd taken a cab from the airport and a man fitting DiNozzo's description had flagged the driver down just after he'd dropped them off. They'd been tired and eager to get home so hadn't taken much notice, however, the husband was sure the man had had a cast on his left arm.

A call to the taxi company hadn't been much help because the driver was off duty and the dispatcher proved to be a stickler for the rules. She wouldn't give out any personal contact details and suggested they call again when the man started his shift that evening. The only thing she would reveal was that their log showed no pick-ups around that area for the time in question. Gibbs suspected Tony had turned on the charm to keep the trip off the books in an attempt to cover his tracks.

With no other leads forthcoming and Gibbs' desperation growing by the hour, he'd even tried to contact Fornell to enlist his help, only to be told he was out of town. Nielson and Sacks were similarly indisposed and Gibbs hoped that meant something significant had been discovered at one of Senior's properties. The sooner this god-awful case was put to bed the better.

"Dammit DiNozzo, where the hell are you?" he muttered wearily, just as McGee arrived back in the squad room. He looked up hopefully, to see that the young agent looking just as tired and frustrated as he felt.

"Sorry Boss, we've got nothing yet," McGee reported with a sigh. "Not even one hit on the BOLO I issued. Abby's managed to rig up the computer back at the safe house to access footage from bus and train stations all over DC and Jimmy's volunteered to do the same for the airports." He paused and smiled. "I think Abby's distributed Tony's picture to everyone she's ever met and recruited a whole load of them to monitor the live traffic cam feeds on the internet. She's hoping one of them will spot him on the streets. She even wanted to contact Ashton at NASA to get him to reposition any available satellites but I managed to persuade her his bosses would never agree to it."

Gibbs gave a small smile in response. He should have known being stuck at the apartment wouldn't stop Abby from finding ways to help. Even Vance had been at his most supportive and had drafted in as many off-duty agents as possible to help with the search. He'd been called away a half hour earlier to deal with something in MTAC, but had promised to return as soon as he could.

"What about Ziva?"

"She's heading over to the cab company. The driver should be turning up for work any time now and she wanted to catch him before he left the garage."

A grim looking Vance suddenly appeared up on the mezzanine just as the elevator pinged to announce its arrival on their floor. A few seconds later, Special Agent Fornell stepped out looking as sombre as the director and he headed straight for the stairs without acknowledging their presence.

"Special Agent Gibbs, please join Agent Fornell and I in my office," Vance ordered, before turning away and stalking off without waiting for them.

Gibbs stood immediately and hurried to the stairs, a feeling of dread dragging at him. The only reason he could think of for Fornell turning up and Vance looking so forbidding was that they had news about Tony, and it wasn't good.

"You find out anything, you let me know immediately," he called over his shoulder to McGee, taking the stairs two at a time. He caught up with Fornell just as he was about to enter the outer office and grabbed the other man's arm. "What's going on, Tobias? Is this about Tony?"

Fornell refused to make eye contact and said, "Wait until we get inside, Jethro, then I'll explain."

Gibbs' concern rose another notch and he allowed Fornell to shake off his hand and continue on his way. He followed closely behind and as soon as they entered Vance's office, he closed the door and demanded, "Okay, what do you know."

"Sit down, Jethro," Vance requested quietly and Gibbs flashed back to the tone his old CO had used just before informing him of Shannon and Kelly's deaths. He practically slid into the chair next to him when he felt his knees threaten to give out.

Before Vance could say anything more, the door flew open again and McGee rushed in without knocking.

"Boss!" he cried, addressing Gibbs directly and ignoring the others in the room. "Ziva just found out where the cab driver took Tony!" He turned his gaze to Fornell. "It was the Hoover building."

Gibbs surged to his feet and Fornell immediately held up his hands defensively.

"Jethro, let me explain" he said hastily. "I only just found out about this myself. DiNozzo turned up at headquarters asking for Agent Sacks' help and insisting he had a plan to flush out Gallo that would work as long as they acted quickly."

"But why would Tony do that?" McGee asked incredulously. "He can't even stand the guy!"

"Because he knew Sacks wouldn't say no to whatever damned fool, cockamamie idea he came up with last night!" Gibbs growled, throwing an accusing glare in Fornell's direction.

"Oh c'mon, Jethro! I admit Sacks has got a blind spot where DiNozzo's concerned, but he's a good agent and he wouldn't intentionally put him in harms way."

"I wouldn't bet on it!" Gibbs snorted. "Where are they now? I want to speak to Tony."

"That won't be possible," Vance interrupted. "My meeting in MTAC was with AD Richards, who informed me of Agent DiNozzo's involvement in an FBI operation. I refused to sanction it, but it seems he's already deployed in the field and cannot be recalled. In fact, the latest intel suggests Gallo's men have DiNozzo and they're travelling to New York city by helicopter. The die is cast gentlemen."

"So Sacks offered DiNozzo up like a sacrificial lamb and sat back to see what Gallo would do? I'd call that putting Tony in harms way wouldn't you, Tobias?" Gibbs eyes flashed dangerously and he looked like he wanted to punch something or more likely, someone.

"I'm getting too old for this," Fornell sighed, staring back at the three hostile men around him. He straightened his shoulders and attempted to explain. "Look, I was still on Long Island when all this went down and I was only told of the situation when I got back a little over an hour ago. I know DiNozzo is in no shape to be out in the field and I would've vetoed the idea if it had been my call. Obviously AD Richards thought differently. He's a very ambitious man and bringing in Gallo before he gets more than a foothold on the Eastern Seaboard could potentially put him in line to succeed the current director.

"The one good thing in this whole mess is that Pete Chandler works out of the New York field office and he'll be in overall charge once Sacks and the others get there. He's a damn fine agent and he won't let anyone do anything stupid when tensions are already running so high in the city. Seven of Buchetta's senior associates have turned up dead in the past week and five others are missing, so one false move could mean all out gang war erupting onto the streets."

The tension in the room seemed to lessen a little at Fornell's explanation and Gibbs adopted a less aggressive stance.

"How do we know where they're heading?" he asked gruffly.

"Because no one can get away with flying anywhere near New York city after nine/eleven without filing a flight plan," Vance replied, allowing himself to smile. "Of course they don't know we've been tracking them since they picked DiNozzo up, so they wouldn't expect us to be able to access that information. If Gallo had chosen a more remote rendezvous, they could've just flown under the radar and we'd be playing catch-up."

"Talking of catch-up, Director Vance, our ride will be here in ten minutes," Fornell said looking at his watch."

Ride?" Gibbs questioned.

"Yes. I persuaded AD Richards to fly us there to make up for using one of my agents without my approval," Vance replied. "However, Agent Fornell will be accompanying us, no doubt to ensure we don't overstep our bounds."

"I want Ducky with us,"Gibbs announced gruffly. "I'll go tell him and we'll meet you downstairs in five minutes. He stalked out of the office with McGee close behind him and effectively ended the meeting.

"That went well," Fornell dead-panned, looking over at Vance and they shared a wry smile.

ncisNCISncis

"Well, Anthony DiNozzo, junior, what brings you to my home? Are you an idiot or do you just lack the most basic survival instincts?" Gallo asked with a sneer. "I expect Romano has spilled his guts by now to save his own worthless ass, so you must know I was responsible for your father's death and that I'd like nothing more than to see you and your brother meet the same fate."

Tony schooled his features and stared back at his father's murderer without showing any emotion. It was show-time.

"Well Gio...I can call you Gio can't I?" he asked flippantly, ignoring the look of anger his familiarity caused. "I appreciate this whole family honour, blood feud thing you've got going on, I really do, but I'm thinking you're a pretty savvy businessman who's not going to turn down an offer to get you out of this massive hole Romano's dropped you in, am I right?"

Gallo's disbelief was written all over his face. "You're trying to tell me you'd help the man who killed your father?"

"Hey, your dad was probably a great guy and I can understand you wanting to take down the man who had him killed, but mine? The bastard disowned me when I was twelve and wouldn't even put me through college. Legally he had to support me until I left high school and he stuck to the letter of the law. The payments stopped the day I graduated." He looked wistful and sighed. "It sure gives you an appreciation of the value of money when you're born to it and then you have it all taken away."

"So you decided to go into law enforcement?" Gallo snorted in amusement. "It's not exactly a career choice that earns you the big bucks. I've known church mice with more money than your average cop."

"Ah, but then I'm not average you see," Tony replied with a lazy smile. "I may be a dumb jock, Gio and I knew I'd never make it in Business school, but you'd be surprised how lucrative being in law enforcement can be if you know what you're doing. I mean it's just a matter of turning a blind eye here, losing a little evidence there or maybe even making an important witness disappear..." He let the sentence trail off and gave Gallo a knowing wink.

"You? A dirty cop?" Gallo's tone was sceptical. "I had you checked out before you arrived and there's no hint of that in your records."

"Maybe I'm just that good," Tony pointed out, a grin spreading across his face. "Well actually, there's no maybe about it!"

"So let me get this straight, you're saying you'd be willing to take care of Romano for me, in return for money?" Gallo asked with a speculative gleam in his eyes, suddenly taking the meeting a lot more seriously.

"No, I want a favour from you. Did you ever see the film 'Strangers on a Train', Gio?" When Gallo looked perplexed at the seemingly incongruous question, Tony explained. "Oh man, surely you know it! It's a fifties classic where two guys meet on a train and one of them suggests they solve their problems by committing a murder for each other. The one with the motive is supposed to hang out somewhere they can be seen, giving them an airtight alibi and the stranger commits the crime. It's perfect! Of course it all went pear-shaped in the film because one of the guys didn't take the conversation seriously - but we could. Even without an alibi, no one's gonna suspect grieving Federal agent, Anthony DiNozzo, of killing the man who could've put his father's murderer in jail."

"So you take care of Romano for me and I do - what?" Gallo asked, genuinely interested now.

"You arrange for the demise of my wicked step-mom," Tony replied with a shrug. "With her out of the way, I get the inheritance that should've been mine in the first place and Easy Street, here I come. The only thing is, you have to leave me and David alone."

Gallo got up from his chair and started pacing up and down in front of the window, deep in thought.

Tony's stomach roiled unhappily. He could feel the pain of his injuries starting to pull at him and he was way beyond exhausted but he had to hold out just a little longer. Gallo was on the verge of agreeing to his deal, he could feel it. Maybe one last detail would swing it.

"Look, I understand you hold by the old ways and my father obviously insulted your family honour, but he's paid for it with his life. Letting us live is such a small price to pay for your freedom, especially when you consider I'm the only one who's his biological son."

"What?" Gallo asked, stopping abruptly.

"Yeah, turns out dear old Dad was firing blanks and had to use a donor to have another kid."

Gallo looked genuinely confused. "Then why risk your life to protect him, if he's not family?"

Tony couldn't quite hide his dismay at the question. "Maybe because he's an innocent kid who deserves the chance to live a long and happy life?"

"And if I told you that leaving the child alone was a deal breaker, how would you feel then?" Gallo asked pointedly. "I pride myself in never leaving loose ends and he witnessed a very nasty argument I had with your father in the run up to his death that would look bad if I was ever indicted."

"Davey's three years old for chrissakes! Who's gonna take anything he has to say seriously? It'd be the testimony of a sleepy little kid who may or may not have seen you from the top of some dimly lit stairs in the middle of the night. Even if they could find a DA stupid enough to sign off on an expensive show trial based on that, any high-priced lawyer worth his salt could confuse and discredit him as a witness in seconds."

"People like you make me laugh," Gallo said with disdain. "You've admitted to being a dirty cop and you're offering to commit a murder to save your own skin, yet you baulk at the idea of killing a kid when it would result in you getting everything you covet. This is a dog eat dog world, DiNozzo and as far as I'm concerned, anyone and everyone is expendable if it gets me what I want – man, woman, child, what difference does it make? Why run the risk when I don't have to?"

Tony shivered involuntarily. God, what a cold-hearted, self-absorbed son of a bitch, he thought as he listened to the man set out his credo so dispassionately.

"Well, David's safety is non-negotiable," he insisted defiantly, resisting the urge to give in to his growing nausea. "As I see it, the only way you're guaranteed to stay out of prison is if we make a deal and I need your decision now. Once the Federal Marshalls have Romano, I lose my chance to get to him and he'll disappear until the trial."

Gallo stood there and it was obvious from little changes to his facial expression that all sorts of ideas were being considered.

"Don't even think of double-crossing me, Gio. I have the flash drive you've been looking for and if anything happens to me or Davey, it goes straight to the authorities."

Gallo turned and pinned Tony with a penetrating stare. "You have it?"

Tony nodded. "It was hidden in David's things when he first arrived and I decided to put it somewhere safe. Like I said before, I've always understood the value of allowing certain pieces of evidence to disappear now and then."

"Ah blackmail, the crime that keeps on giving."

"Not blackmail, just insurance to keep us both honest," Tony said rolling his head from side to side to relieve some of the tension down his neck and back. He needed to wrap this up soon or he'd end up keeling over and blowing the whole deal. "Look, I need an answer right now. Do I take Romano out or not?"

Gallo glanced over to Braxton who'd remained silent through the whole exchange and when he gave an almost imperceptible nod, Giovanni held out his hand to Tony. "We have a deal."

"Great! If you fly me back to DC right now, I can easily explain away my disappearance this morning. I'll say I needed some space to get my head on straight after everything that's happened."

Gallo nodded. "Howard, could you tell the pilot to ready the helicopter and Mr DiNozzo and I will be right there.

"Of course, Mr Gallo," Braxton replied with a smile.

As he turned to leave, Tony allowed himself to relax a little and he closed his eyes momentarily. The hard part was over and he'd soon be on his way home.

"Wait!" Gallo's voice boomed in the quiet study. "WHAT is that?" he demanded, striding across the room.

Braxton froze with his hand resting on the door handle and Tony's eyes flew open in surprise.

"Busted!" he muttered under his breath as Gallo approached Braxton and pulled at something that was hanging out from under the back of the other man's collar.

Gallo stared accusingly at his employee as he held up what looked like a narrow, flat strip of flexible plastic. It was about an inch long and transparent, except for the sophisticated silver circuity running though it like veins.

Braxton looked horrified. "I, I had no idea, Sir, I swear!" he exclaimed. "DiNozzo must have slipped it on me when I was helping him change clothes!"

Both men turned to face Tony who stood there, silently cursing the tiny piece of technological hardware that had blown a perfectly good plan all to hell. There was no way either fight or flight were really options so he'd just have to stall and hope he could hold out until Sacks and his men got there.

"I don't suppose you'd consider surrendering would you?" he asked in a hopeful tone. "I know it'd be my preferred option at this point and...ooof!" Tony's breath was suddenly forced from his body as an enraged Gallo lunged at him and took him out like a professional linebacker. He heard a crack as his cast connected with something hard and pain shot up his arm a second before he slammed to the ground and his head bounced off the floor.

After that everything became a confusing jumble of noise and pain. He could hear what sounded like a rabid dog snarling above him and he felt a few blows to his body; fingers snaked around his neck and pressure was exerted making it almost impossible to drag much needed oxygen into his lungs. There were loud bangs, the sound of wood splintering and a cacophany of screams and shouting. And then, as suddenly as it had descended, the weight on his chest was lifted and the pressure on his throat disappeared. Thankfully, he finally managed to take a deep, if ragged, breath.

Tony struggled to open his eyes but it seemed like an impossible task as the pain short-circuited his best efforts and he sent a silent prayer heavenward, hoping that he hadn't sustained yet another concussion. A gentle hand came to rest on his shoulder and he knew he must be hallucinating when he heard Gibbs' disembodied voice murmur, "Take it easy Tony, I've got you."

TBC


	19. Chapter 19

Tony lay there, his eyes squeezed tightly shut desperately gulping in air with harsh, gasping breaths. His lungs burned with the lack of oxygen but every time they expanded, his ribs protested and the pain swelled to match the agony in his head. He groaned and tried to wrap his arms across his chest to alleviate some of the pressure, but the movement only compounded the problem and caused him to groan louder.

“Dammit DiNozzo, stop that!”

Without thought, Tony responded to Gibbs' voice and stilled instantly before the reality of the situation sank in. God how pathetic was he? There was no way Gibbs could be there, no-one at home knew where he was and he couldn't just lie prone on the floor on the say so of some phantom voice his sub-conscious had conjured up. He had to get up and defend himself before Gallo came back with a gun to take care of him permanently. He tried to roll to his right with the intention of getting to his knees, only to be grasped firmly and held in place.

“For Christ's sake DiNozzo, stay down!” the Gibbs voice barked again, before two other familiar voices chipped in.

“Boss, Ducky's here.”

“Ah Jethro, I see you've found our lost lamb.”

Crap, now McGee and Ducky were joining the hallucinatory party. Tony managed to pry open an eye and squinted up at the three figures looking down on him in concern. Oh, this was bad, very bad – auditory and visual hallucinations? Suddenly a concussion seemed infinitely more preferable to suffering a psychotic break. Maybe that trip to Happy Dale was on the cards after all.

“You with us now, DiNozzo?”

Tony felt perplexed: What was the etiquette when you were spoken to by a figment of your own imagination? Did you ignore it or answer back? His friends were a little fuzzy around the edges, but they definitely seemed real enough and, on balance, he decided it was probably just as dangerous to piss off an imaginary Gibbs as it was the genuine article. “H...hey, Boss,” he finally wheezed. “Good to see ya.”

Gibbs stared down at the younger man in exasperation; trust Tony to try and act normally when the situation was anything but! There he was, lying on the floor obviously in considerable pain, gasping for every breath and trying to sound as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened to him. Gibbs resisted the urge to snort - after all, being viciously attacked by his father's murderer and almost dying himself was just another day in the life of his senior field agent.

“Wish I could say the same, DiNozzo,” Gibbs replied gruffly. “I would've preferred it if you'd stayed put at the safe house instead of running off and forcing me to go chasing all over creation trying to track you down. I never did like playing hide-and-go-seek.”

“Yeah, sorry 'bout that,” Tony said with a painful sounding croak. He cocked his head to one side, staring at something across the room and gave a ghost of his usual grin. “Plan worked though.”

Gibbs followed his gaze to see Sacks and two other FBI agents still struggling to subdue Gallo. Tony was right, but it had been too close and he ruthlessly suppressed any thoughts of what might have happened if they'd arrived a few minutes later. It had been bad enough smashing their way into the apartment to find Tony being pinned to the floor having the life wrung out of him. Gibbs' blood had still been thundering in his ears from their headlong race to get there in time when he'd rushed over, grabbed Gallo and quite literally flung him across the room to the other agents. He'd immediately dismissed the man from his mind, trusting the others to take care of him, but now he'd satisfied himself that Tony was alive and coherent, he looked on with interest.

The FBI agents had managed to manoeuvre Gallo onto his stomach, but he was snarling and fighting back with a deranged ferocity that caused flecks of foaming spittle to drip from his open mouth. Throughout his struggles, his eyes never wavered from Tony's position and it seemed he was intent on throwing off the agents for the sole purpose of reaching his betrayer and tearing him limb from limb.

Finally, Sacks and his men began to gain the upper hand as their captive slowly weakened from his exertions and they gratefully clicked the handcuffs into place. They dragged Gallo to his feet and hastily moved to manhandle him to the door.

Gibbs watched proceedings with an impassive stare, however, inside he felt an almost overwhelming urge to take out his Sig and put Gallo down like he would any rabid dog. He's seen the madness in the other man's eyes and knew the team would have to add one more name to the ever growing list of Tony's enemies.

“Come on, Jethro, out of the way,” a voice said loudly, breaking into his thoughts. “Let the dog see the rabbit.”

He looked back to see Ducky still standing there expectantly, medical bag in hand. “Oh, right,” he murmured, moving a little to his left to give the doctor better access.

“Well, no-one can say you don't have a flair for the dramatic, my boy,” Ducky said conversationally, kneeling down next to his patient and starting his examination. “However, when you're feeling better, we really must discuss your compulsion for throwing yourself headlong into perilous situations to protect your loved ones.” He paused and made sure he made eye contact with Tony before continuing, “I can't tell you how distressed we all were to find you'd left your sick bed in the dead of night to take on a ruthless criminal! You do realise we all care about you too, don't you?”

“Are 'llucinations 'llowed to give lectures?” Tony mumbled tiredly. He was breathing more easily now and with the realisation that the danger had past, his adrenalin levels were dropping rapidly, leaving him exhausted.

Gibbs exchanged a worried look with Ducky. “Hallucinations?”

“Ow!” Tony yelped as Ducky lifted first one eyelid and then the other, shining a penlight into his eyes. “Not s'posed to hurt ya either.”

“Well, his pupils are equal and reactive,” Ducky observed thoughtfully. “What makes you think you're hallucinating, Anthony? What are you seeing?”

“You guys,” Tony replied, as if the answer was obvious. “An' it's a little freaky, 'cause I know you're all really in DC, so I guess you're the product of some kind of pseudo, psycho comfort mechanism thingy, huh?”

Ducky shook his head and chuckled. “I can assure you we are most definitely here young man, although the breakneck speed of the flight we took to get here does rather leave me feeling as if I left a part of myself back at headquarters.”

“Yeah, you should've been there Tony!” McGee chimed in excitedly. “When Vance found out what was going on, he chewed out one of the FBI's assistant directors and insisted he get us here asap. He must've been pretty convincing too because a helicopter landed right in the Navy Yard - and we're not talking any old helicopter either! I mean it was a Westland Lynx! It can....”

“Yes, thank you Timothy,” Ducky interrupted a little impatiently. “I think it might be better to wait for a more appropriate time before you start regaling Tony with our adventures. I'm sure he'd much prefer to swap airspeed statistics and the like once I've had a chance to check him over and made him more comfortable, don't you?”

“Oh, um, sure. Sorry,” McGee apologised, his excitement vanishing instantly at the older man's words. It was just so hard to accept Tony was hurt and vulnerable when his sense of humour refused to be suppressed.

Ducky bent over to continue his examination and the next few minutes were taken up with his tuts of concern, his hushed questions, Tony's croaked replies and the odd pain filled hiss. Finally he sat back on his heel and shook his head as he stared down at his patient.

“Young man, I can't believe you were able to stay on your feet long enough to get yourself here, never mind secure a confession from that dreadful man and keep him distracted until the cavalry arrived!” he observed, his tone a strange mix of exasperation and admiration. “I applaud you for carrying off such daring plan, but I do wish you'd waited until you had recovered from your original injuries. I'm sure Jethro will have plenty to say about it later.”

“You're right about that,” Gibbs grunted, trying not to smile in amusement as Tony's lop-sided grin at Ducky's compliment gave way to a rueful sideways squint at his boss.

Ron Sacks had just re-entered the study in time to hear Ducky's assessment of the situation and he gave a dark scowl. “Hey, we had a lot to do with the success of this mission,” he protested sullenly. “We gave DiNozzo the contact information he needed to reach Gallo and it was our technology that tracked him and recorded everything.”

“And was it your idea to break protocol and send a badly injured man from a sister agency into the field, without getting the permission of his director?” Vance asked, with a dangerous edge to his voice as he arrived on the scene.

“DiNozzo approached me and it was his plan, not mine! I just helped him put it into action!”

“Oh, I don't doubt you jumped at the chance!” Gibbs growled. “And if Tony had been killed, I'm sure you would've considered his sacrifice worthwhile, if it meant you got to impress your bosses and earned yourself a promotion!”

“Now, wait just a minute....” Sacks blustered.

“Timothy, it's getting a little crowded in here and I really must attend to Anthony's care,” Ducky said quickly, cutting across the FBI agent's angry retort before Gibbs built up a head of steam and decked him. “Would you be so kind as to go and arrange to show the EMTs up as soon as they arrive? I'm afraid a trip to the local hospital will be necessary.”

“Sure Ducky, no problem,” McGee replied, relieved that their ME had successfully diffused a potentially explosive situation. He patted Tony's good shoulder and added, “Hang in there, I'll be back as soon as I can.”

“And I would appreciate a sit rep from you, Special Agent Sacks, if you don't mind,” Vance requested, lifting his arm to usher the other man towards the door.

“Fine,” Sacks agreed with bad grace. He wasn't looking forward to talking to the director, but at least it was an excuse to get away from Gibbs' smouldering anger. He turned on his heels and led the way into the other room with Vance right behind him.

“Aw, Ducky, just wanna go home,” Tony said with a pathetic whine when the others had left. “Can't we just skip the hospital visit?”

Ducky chuckled again. “I'm sorry Anthony, but I'll feel much happier once you've been properly assessed. I can't see any overt signs that you've sustained a concussion, but the bruising to your throat is a little worrying and your cast will have to be replaced before we head home.” He opened his medical bag and pulled out a pre-prepared syringe. “I'm going to give you a shot of morphine to make the ambulance trip more bearable, then once the EMTs arrive, we can be on our way.”

As Tony felt the needle penetrate his skin a sudden thought struck him. “No, wait!” he protested.

“It's only a low dosage,” Ducky assured the younger man. “I'm sure the benefits will far out-weigh any side-effects and they're sure to wear off quickly enough.”

“Just woulda preferred some o' that stuff the FBI doctor gave me, that's all,” Tony muttered unhappily. “Worked great an' it didn't turn me into a jabbering Froot Loop.”

“Oh trust me, you don't need any meds to make you do that,” Gibbs commented wryly, taking hold of the back of a chair to pull himself to his feet. “As you seem to be back to what passes for normal for you, I'm gonna step outside and call Abby to let her know what's going on.” As he turned to leave, he pulled out his cell phone and pressed a couple of the buttons on the keypad, then in anticipation of a high decibel response from Abby, he held the phone a little distance from his ear.

As soon as the call connected, the young Goth didn't disappoint as her loud and excited voice demanded, “Gibbs! Did you find him? Is he okay? Are you okay? What about Ducky and McGee, oh, and our head honcho of course! Did you get the dirt-bag? When are you coming home?”

“Yes Abs, the dirt-bag's in custody, we're with Tony now and he's gonna be fine,” Gibbs assured her, smiling affectionately at her usual frenetic barrage of questions. “The idiot's got a few more bumps and bruises and he's managed to damage his cast, but otherwise he's okay. Ducky wants us to go to the hospital just to be on the safe side.” He heard her talking to someone on the other end of the line and asked, “Is Davey there?”

“Yeah. He's been so worried, I told him he could stay up until you called. He wants you to give Tony a hug from him, okay?”

“Will do Abs. Tell him we're sending hugs and kisses back and we'll see him tomorrow,” he said in a low voice, very aware of the FBI agents milling around him in the apartment.

“Aw, Gibbs! I love it when you get all mushy,” Abby gushed happily.

“Yeah, well, don't go telling everyone. I have a reputation to....”

“Jethro, get in here now! I need your help!” Ducky shouted urgently, effectively curtailing the conversation.

“I'll call back as soon as I can,” Gibbs said quickly and heard a plaintive, “But Gibbs!” from Abby as he abruptly ended the call by snapping his cell phone shut. He rushed back into the study to see their ME struggling to turn Tony onto his side. He bent down to add his strength to the manoeuvre just as the younger man began to vomit.

“What happened?”

“Anthony's condition suddenly deteriorated! He complained of feeling nauseous and he began to shiver violently, although the temperature in here seems more that adequate to me. When he started to retch, I tried to turn him to prevent him choking or aspirating vomit, but I couldn't manage on my own!”

The two men watched helplessly as Tony expelled his stomach contents, clutching at his stomach miserably and struggling for breath between heaves. Their momentary relief when he finally stopped was short lived when he almost immediately went limp in their arms and seemed barely conscious; his eyes looked glassy and unfocussed and his breathing sounded shallow and raspy, as if drawing in enough air for his body's needs had become too much of an effort.

“I don't like this, Jethro,” Ducky said with a worried frown when Tony's breathing stubbornly refused to return to normal. “These symptoms seem to indicate a severe concussion, yet Tony was only stunned and winded earlier. I suppose it could be a delayed reaction, but still, I'm really concerned how quickly Tony's condition deteriorated after I administered the morphine.”

“But apart from his manic episodes, he's never had a problem with it before,” Gibbs pointed out, his gut churning with anxiety.

“I know, I know,” Ducky replied, looking deep in thought. “I just can't shake the feeling I'm missing something.” He reached into his medical bag to retrieve the stethoscope and blood-pressure monitor he'd packed away only minutes earlier. “Here, use this to clean the boy up a little, Jethro,” he suggested, handing him a wad of gauze before starting to re-check Tony's stats, “and talk to him, see if you can get him to respond.”

“So help me DiNozzo, don't you dare think of dying! You don't have my permission, you hear me?” Gibbs muttered angrily as he took the gauze and busied himself gently wiping the worst of the mess from Tony's face and clothes.

“I was rather hoping for something a little more encouraging,” Ducky commented dryly before addressing the injured man himself. “Anthony, can you hear me? You're going to be fine, my boy, but I need you to answer me, alright? We just need to know you're with us.” When there was no response, Ducky paused for a few seconds and then ran his knuckles up and down Tony's sternum.

Tony jerked a little and groaned out a feeble, “No....”

The ME seemed satisfied he'd been able to get some kind of response and turned to Gibbs. “His heart-rate and blood-pressure are both a little too low for my liking but he seems stable at the moment. We just need to get him to the hospital as soon as possible.”

As if he'd just been waiting for those words, McGee appeared in the doorway to announce, “The EMTs are here,” before stepping to one side to let two paramedics with a gurney push past him.

Gibbs reluctantly moving out of the way too and went to stand next to McGee by the wall. Ducky stayed with the EMTs, advising them of Tony's condition and making sure he was settled as comfortably as possible on the gurney. Once an oxygen mask had been placed over his nose and mouth, Tony's breathing became less laboured and after some final checks, they were ready to leave.

Gibbs moved back to Tony's side and placed his hand on the younger man's forehead, his own face etched with concern.

“They'll be taking him to Mount Sinai, Jethro and I've informed them we'll be along shortly,” Ducky said, putting his own hand on his friend's shoulder to stop him from following as the paramedics pushed Tony out of the room. “It's an excellent hospital and I know a number of the attending physicians there.”

“You're not going in the ambulance with him?” Gibbs asked in surprise.

“No. Anthony's condition is critical, but we've got him stabilised and he's in capable hands,” Ducky replied. “Besides, something he mentioned earlier has been bothering me and I need to speak to Agent Sacks about it.”

“What about?” Sack asked from behind the ME.

“Ah, there you are,” Ducky said genially, turning to face the man. “Agent DiNozzo said he'd received some pain medication today from an FBI doctor, do you know anything about that?”

“Sure. He was checked over just before he left for his rendezvous with Gallo and Doctor Chung gave him a shot to keep him going. It's called...fenox...fentoxa...fentoxamorpha...something or other,” he replied, stumbling over the unfamiliar word. “It's some new stuff they're trying out to stop injuries to key personnel from compromising essential operations - kinda like keeping a star player on the field in a championship game, I guess. The doctor said it should do the trick because it would keep a pole-axed bull standing.”

“You don't mean Fentoxymorphone, do you?” Ducky asked anxiously.

Gibbs' gut gave an unpleasant lurch as he recognised the deepening concern in his friend's expression when Sacks nodded in confirmation. “There a problem with that, Duck?”

“I think there might be,” the ME replied. “I was reading something about Fentoxymorphone in one of my medical journals just last month and apparently it was initially seen as a very promising, less addictive, new morphine derivative. However, recent trial data suggests there have been some very serious side effects in certain patients and I'm almost sure the article said it was strongly counter-indicative for patients with a history of respiratory illnesses.”

“Wait a minute, are you saying this drug's not even FDA approved yet?” Gibbs asked in a deceptively mild tone.

“That's right,” Ducky replied grimly.

“Look, he wasn't fit to be out in the field and we had to do something to get him back on his feet fast! It was DiNozzo's choice, his plan. Bottom line, it was our best chance to take out Gallo and we only had a limited amount of time for the whole scenario about him being able to neutralise Romano to sound plausible,” Sacks insisted sticking out his chin defiantly. “He would've done the same thing if the situation had been reversed.”

“Bullshit!” Gibbs spat out. “You don't understand Tony at all do you? You said it yourself, he wasn't fit enough to be doing any of this, but as usual, he put himself in harms way to get the job done. If the situation had been reversed, he sure as hell wouldn't have gone all out to impress his bosses with a high profile bust at the expense of another agent. He'd have made sure you received proper treatment and then he'd have come up with an alternative plan to bring the bastard down!”

Gibbs fell silent for a few seconds, visibly struggling to rein in his temper, then he pinned Sacks with a steely glare. “The bottom line as I see it, is that if Tony dies because of your actions, it won't just be your badge I go after,” he vowed menacingly.

TBC


	20. Chapter 20

When Gibbs, Ducky and McGee finally made it to the hospital later that night, it was obvious the ME had had the foresight to call ahead to pull a few strings because they were met by a senior hospital administrator. She seemed eager to accommodate them in any way possible and after informing them that Tony was undergoing a battery of tests and that his condition was listed as critical, she showed Gibbs and McGee to a small, private waiting area. Leaving them with assurances that they'd be kept informed of any developments, she whisked Ducky away to consult with the other doctors.

Over the next few hours, a steady stream of fresh-faced medical students appeared periodically with fresh coffee and word that there was no appreciable change in Tony's condition. Gibbs was becoming increasingly frustrated with the lack of real information and he was getting more bad tempered with each would-be doctor's attempts to practise their bedside manner on him. For his part, McGee tried his best to run interference between the students and his boss, offering thanks and apologetic smiles wherever possible.

Finally a pretty, dark-haired girl arrived and had barely entered the room when Gibbs abruptly got to his feet.

“Before you start, I've had my fill of your damned coffee, I don't need any more meaningless platitudes and I'm done waiting for answers. Go find Doctor Mallard and tell him I need to speak to him. Now!”

“Really Jethro, there's no need for that. You're scaring the poor girl half to death,” Ducky admonished as he and another doctor walked through the door in time to hear his friend's outburst. “Elaine here, kindly volunteered to come and tell you Doctor Scott and I were on our way, that's all.”

McGee almost snorted at Ducky's words, seriously doubting she'd had any choice in the matter. News of Gibbs' increasing impatience and barely restrained anger must have spread through the medical students like wildfire because each new messenger had seemed more reluctant to approach them than the last. Poor Elaine had probably drawn the latest short straw and been forced to take her turn at bearding the lion in his den.

Ducky gave the nervous young woman an indulgent smile and said, “Thank you my dear, you've been most helpful. Tell your friends the pizzas are on me tonight.”

“Th...thanks Doctor Mallard,” the young woman stuttered as she turned on her heels and practically scurried from the room.

“Oh Jethro,” Ducky sighed disappointedly as he watched her leave. “You really must learn not to take your frustrations out on people who are only trying to help, especially the young, impressionable ones.” He shook his head and chuckled. “I swear, she barely seems old enough to be out of Junior High, never mind training to be a doctor. I expect when they start looking as if they belong in Kindergarten, that will be my cue to call it a day. Why, I remember one of my own tutors back in Edinburgh remarking on the same subject....”

“C'mon Duck, what's the verdict?” Gibbs snapped impatiently.

“Let's sit down shall we?” Ducky suggested mildly, too used to Gibbs' brusque manner to take offence.

“That bad, huh?” the senior agent asked as he re-took his seat. His face was impassive, but he couldn't hide the worry in his eyes.

Well, I'd be lying if I said things were looking good,” Ducky admitted. “However, on the positive side, I'm almost certain that my concerns about Anthony's lungs suffering further damage are unfounded.”

“How can that be?” McGee blurted out. “Tony was really struggling to breathe back there.”

“Indeed he was my boy, so when I recalled reading that Fentoxymorphone was not recommended for people with a history of lung problems, I fear I jumped to the wrong conclusion. In fact the reason it has been flagged as being counter-indicative in such cases is because of the complication of breathing difficulties due to acute renal failure. In someone whose lung function is already compromised, it could prove fatal.”

Gibbs frowned deeply. “You mean the damned drugs have damaged his kidneys instead?”

“Well, the blood tests have shown electrolyte imbalances, a significant elevation in BUN and creatinine levels and there's also a marked decrease in glomerular filtration rate,” Ducky reported, his expression serious.

“Dammit Duck, I don't need a talking text book, I just need a simple answer!” Gibbs growled. “Is that a yes or a no!”

“It's a, yes the drugs seem to have adversely affected his kidney function,” Ducky replied evenly. “However, although he's lethargic, and suffering from shortness of breath and weakness to his limbs, there's no indication that the condition is permanent. The symptoms may well resolve themselves once the drugs causing the problems work their way out of his system.”

“And if they don't?” Gibbs asked.

“Well, I'm taking it as a positive sign that Tony has regained consciousness and seems aware of what has happened. From what he's been able to tell us, I'm inclined to think he began experiencing a mild reaction to the Fentoxymorphone soon after it was administered. He initially attributed feeling tired and nauseous earlier, to the long cab ride to Fredericksburg, but the symptoms persisted and he felt progressively worse during his meeting with Mr Gallo.”

“But are we even sure the FBI gave Tony that particular drug?” McGee asked. “I mean, if it's experimental, the hospital database wouldn't have the details on it to run a test would they?”

“That's true, but I managed to arrange to speak directly to the physician, who treated Anthony, on the telephone an hour or so ago and he confirmed my suspicions. In fact, he all but admitted allowing Agent Sacks to persuade him to carry out the most cursory of examinations before administering the new painkiller, no questions asked,” Ducky replied angrily. “I'm afraid Doctor Chung became rather uncooperative after I suggested using an experimental drug on an unfamiliar patient was tantamount to medical negligence. He simply insisted he'd made the right decision due to the urgent nature of the operation and ended the call!”

“The guy should be struck off!” McGee muttered angrily.

“Or at the very least severely censured,” Ducky concurred. “It's was a reprehensible decision, especially as the doctor appears not to have warned Anthony of any danger, or considered any complications arising from further treatment later on. As things stand, I honestly believe that if I had given Tony the usual dosage of morphine at Mr Gallo's apartment, the complications arising from the two drugs interacting could have been instantly catastrophic for our young friend,” Ducky admitted gravely.

“So what's the prognosis as things stand?” Gibbs asked, unwilling to dwell on Ducky's words.

“Well the honest answer is, we don't know,” Doctor Scott replied with surprising frankness. “The serious nature of Special Agent DiNozzo's deterioration after the morphine was administered is a great cause for concern and I'm very reluctant to introduce any further medication into the mix at this time. I'd rather wait and see how things develop first. As Doctor Mallard has already mentioned we're hoping his condition improves as the potency of the drugs dissipates.”

“Quite so,” Ducky agreed. “Unfortunately, one of the reasons Doctor Chung chose Fentoxymorphone was it's ability to linger in the body and offer pain relief for much longer than any of the other alternatives available. In Anthony's case, it means he will probably also have to endure the ill-effects for an extended period.”

“So what now? We just sit around hoping for the best?”

“Everything is under control at the moment, Jethro. Tony's being well cared for and his condition is being closely monitored,” Ducky soothed. “If his condition worsens and the toxins in his bloodstream reach unacceptable levels, we always have the option of trying dialysis. In the meantime I think we could all use a little rest. Doctor Scott here has....”

“I want to see him,” Gibbs insisted stubbornly.

Ducky sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes at his medical colleague. “I told you Jethro would prefer to throw out his back sitting in an uncomfortable hospital chair rather than take advantage of the accommodation you've managed to arrange for us didn't I, William?”

Doctor Scott laughed as Gibbs gave them both an uncompromising glare. “Ducky warned me you wouldn't rest until after you'd made sure your man was on the mend, Agent Gibbs. You've been cleared to stay with him until the next shift change, so if you'd like to come with me, I'll take you to his room.”

“Timothy and I will get a few hours sleep and see you in the morning, Jethro!” Ducky called after their retreating backs and saw Gibbs raise his hand in acknowledgement. “Come my boy,” he said to a reluctant McGee. “There are a couple of cots in the doctors' lounge with our names on them.

“But....”

“No arguments, Timothy. Tomorrow could very well be another long and worrying day and I want us on top of our game.”

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“Special Agent DiNozzo is in room two-three-six, just along here,” Doctor Scott said conversationally as they walked along a corridor on the second floor. “This area still offers a high degree of monitoring and hands-on care, but it's much more restful than the ICU and as he isn't actively receiving any treatment, I believe it's a better choice for him.”

“I see,” Gibbs murmured, for want of anything better to say.

“Ah, here we are,” Scott announced, stopping outside a room next to a nurses' station. He quietly opened the door and let Gibbs inside before following him over to the bed. He reached over to straighten a few stray wires and then busied himself checking the readings on the machines.

Gibbs concentrated on Tony, trying to assess his condition visually. He desperately wanted to convince himself that everything was going to be fine, but the younger man was sleeping fitfully and his skin had an unhealthy grey cast to it, somehow emphasised by the livid bruising on his neck. Gibbs' stomach lurched as the scene in Gallo's study once again flashed into his mind and he acknowledged how close they'd come to arriving too late.

“I assure you, even though Special Agent DiNozzo's condition is critical, he is stable,” Doctor Scott said, when he noticed Gibbs' worried expression. “His temperature is slightly elevated, but I'm not unduly concerned about that at the moment. It seems to be holding steady at around a hundred and one and unless it spikes to a more dangerous level, I truly believe we're better leaving well alone in the circumstances.”

“Are you sure his lungs are okay?” Gibbs asked, hating the harsh, rasping quality of Tony's breathing. “He looks like he's struggling for air.”

“There's no sign of congestion or further damage,” Scott assured him. “Unfortunately, one of the symptoms of renal failure is the decreased production of red blood cells, which as you probably know, carry oxygen around the body. The nasal cannula is helping, but his lungs are still having to work harder to get a sufficient supply.”

The Doctor checked his watch and looked apologetic. “I'm sorry I can't stay any longer, I have to consult with a colleague about another case in a few minutes. Don't worry about all the beeping and whirring from the machines, your brain will dismiss the noise pretty quickly.”

“Been hooked up to those things a time or two myself Doc and looking after a trouble magnet like DiNozzo, I barely notice them any more.” He smiled fondly down at Tony and placed a hand gently on the younger man's forehead. “I gotta say though, getting hospitalised twice in one week is a record, even for him.”

“Yes, Donald's been telling me a few stories about Agent DiNozzo's close calls with the Grim Reaper,” Doctor Scott replied with a quiet chuckle. “I have to admit, I thought he was pulling my leg until I looked through the medical records.”

Just then, movement from the bed caught the attention of both men and they looked over to see Tony turn his head in their direction and utter a raspy sounding, “Boss?”

“Right here, DiNozzo,” Gibbs replied, leaning forward so he was in the younger man's line of sight.

“Not...blue. That's good...right?” Tony gasped, struggling to make his eyes focus.

“It's very good Tony. You just need to rest and you'll be fine,” Gibbs said with more conviction than he actually felt. When Doctor Scott lifted an eyebrow and looked askance at him, he explained, “When Tony had the plague, they put him in some kind of isolation booth at Bethesda where the lights shone blue.”

“Ah, I see,” Scott acknowledged. “I've heard of those things - they have negative pressure and air scrubbers to prevent the spread of contaminants, don't they?”

Gibbs nodded. “Sounds about right.”

Doctor Scott checked his watch again and said, “I'm sorry, I really have to go. A nurse will be in and out regularly and all the machines are being monitored constantly, but if you have any concerns at all or need anything, don't hesitate to use the call buzzer.”

Gibbs offered a distracted, “Yeah, thanks,” as he brushed a few hairs from Tony's forehead and slipped into the chair next to the bed. It was going to be a long night.

“Boss? Need t' call...Warren ...'bout Davey. That evil...bitch...still his...guardian.”

“Tony, there's no problem. You're gonna be fine, so relax,” Gibbs urged as the younger man struggled to draw breath between his halting words.

“NO! New will...not...signed!” Tony panted, a look of desperation in his eyes. “Need...to...sign. Dad...didn't. Please....”

“Okay, okay,” Gibbs agreed quickly. It was obvious DiNozzo's overwhelming need to protect his own son wouldn't be satisfied with less. “I'm sure Warren's got everything in hand, but I'll call him first thing tomorrow, I promise. Now relax and get some sleep.”

Tony relaxed back onto his pillow. “Feel...like...crap.”

“Yeah, you look like it too,” Gibbs observed, smiling in spite of himself.

“'M...t'red.”

“Rest then. I need shut-eye too, DiNozzo and you know how grouchy I can get if I don't get enough sleep.”

“Y're...alw'ys...grouchy....”

“Sleep. Now!” Gibbs mock growled, delivering a slight tap to the top of Tony's head.

The younger man didn't open his eyes, but the corners of his mouth turned up slightly and the smallest huff of air passed his lips. Gibbs watched quietly until he was sure Tony had fallen back to sleep and then allowed his head to fall forward as he surrendered to his own exhaustion.

He barely seemed to have closed his eyes when a light tap on his shoulder jerked him awake. He looked up to see McGee standing next to him with an anxious look on his face.

“I'm sorry to disturb you Boss, but Special Agent Fornell's here,” he explained apologetically. “He turned up about ten minutes ago and I tried to put him off but he says he wants to speak to you.”

Gibbs let out a groan and scrubbed at his face with his hands to help wake himself up properly before asking, “What time is it?”

“A little after six,” McGee replied. “Um, Boss, Special Agent Chandler's here too and, um, Sacks.”

“Dammit!” Gibbs hissed more loudly than he'd intended and he looked over to the bed to make sure he hadn't disturbed Tony. Thankfully he was still sleeping, so Gibbs rose quickly and ushered McGee out of the room in front of him. After carefully closing the door, he spun around and stalked past the nurses' station and up the corridor to where the three FBI agents were standing talking to Ducky.

“What the hell are you doing here Tobias and what were you thinking bringing that bastard with you?” Gibbs growled angrily, gesturing to where Agent Sacks stood watching with a defiant look on his face. “I thought you would have had more sense than to let him anywhere near me right now!”

“Look Agent Gibbs, I'm only doing my job and we need DiNozzo's statement to corroborate the sound recordings we took....” Sacks began.

“Tobias, so help me God, if you don't shut that idiot up and get him out of my sight, I'll knock him straight through the wall!” Gibbs declared, his stance aggressive and dangerous. “DiNozzo's in critical condition because of him!”

“I'm not to blame for that! DiNozzo made his own decisions and you can't just threaten me in front of all these witnesses,” Sacks blustered.

“I sure as hell can!” Gibbs practically shouted back. “That damned wonder drug of yours has affected his kidneys and he's barely holding his own!”

“You sure he's not faking it? From what I hear, he's always playing on his injuries to get attention,” Sacks snorted derisively. “I'm pretty sure he was the one who started the urban myth that regularly does the rounds at inter-agency conferences about him surviving the plague. As if! Face it, the guy's a screw up who has to inflate his poor reputation with wild stories.”

“I assure you it was no tall tale,” Ducky insisted indignantly. “Agent DiNozzo was the victim of a deliberate biological attack and would have died had he not fought so hard to survive.”

There was a brief flicker of uncertainty in Sacks' eyes but it only lasted a couple of seconds as he refused to accept he'd done anything wrong.

“There was no way I could have known that...” Sacks tried again, trying to look righteously indignant.

“For God's sake Ron, keep quiet and let me handle this,” Fornell insisted, exasperated at his agent's bullish attitude.

For his part, Special Agent Chandler watched in disbelief as Sacks seemed bound and determined to get himself killed. The NCIS contingent were looking increasingly murderous as the DC agent continued to deny any culpability and instead, continued to attack the integrity of their friend.

“Special Agent Gibbs?” he interjected, extending his hand. “Pete Chandler, we met briefly last night.” The other agent subjected him to an assessing stare before grasping the hand and giving it a firm shake.

“Yes, I remember,” Gibbs acknowledged, allowing himself to relax a little. “Thanks for the help. I'm not sure we'd have got DiNozzo back alive if it hadn't been for your intervention. It's good to know not all FBI agents are incompetent.”

Sacks snorted in disgust and the tension in the group immediately spiked again. “If DiNozzo had done his job and attached the bug to Braxton's clothes properly, the operation would've been a complete success.”

“Don't you dare blame faulty FBI kit on Tony!” McGee replied heatedly. “I got a look at that bug last night and it was never gonna hold. Its ability to adhere properly just wasn't up to scratch.”

Sacks stared back and stuck out his chin defiantly. “There was nothing wrong with that bug,” he insisted.

“God, Tony was right about you,” McGee said, shaking his head in disbelief. “You only see what you want to see and ignore any evidence that doesn't fit in with your own view of the World. You've got a chip on your shoulder the size of a Redwood and a stick up your ass that must be about the same size, Agent Slacks!”

Sacks' eyes flashed angrily at McGee's use of the hated nickname and he shot back, “You've been working with DiNozzo too long, McGee. If you work with shit long enough, it sticks and I suggest you get out now while you're still clean enough to get a job with a better team.”

McGee had had enough. He could feel the blood in his veins thrumming with anger as he straightened up to his full height, pulled back his left hand and slammed his fist hard into the centre of Sack's face. He heard an audible crack and watched with satisfaction as the other man went down. “There is no better team you asshole,” he answered with a growl that Gibbs would've been proud of.

“Jethro, say something....” Fornell protested half-heartedly, bending down to help his agent into a sitting position. Sacks sat there looking stunned, his left hand holding his nose as he tried to stem the flow of blood.

“Good job, Tim,” Gibbs obliged, the pride evident in his voice. When Fornell looked at him disapprovingly, he grinned and shrugged his shoulders. “What? McGee just saved me the effort – and the bruised knuckles. If you ask me, the idiot got off easy....”

Suddenly a buzzer blared at the nurses station, quickly followed by what sounded like a number of different alarms shrieking before an urgent voice announced, “Code blue, room two-three-six, I repeat code blue, room two-three-six!” and all hell broke loose.

TBC


	21. Chapter 21

Gibbs' satisfied grin instantly disappeared as the significance of the number announced over the PA system registered; two-three-six was Tony's room. “DiNozzo's in trouble,” he declared grimly, throwing a deadly glare at Sacks before focussing his attention on Fornell. “This is your last warning, Tobias. You either get that jackass out of here now, or you'll be one agent short!”

Without waiting for a response, he dismissed them from his mind and turned to stride quickly back down the corridor, only vaguely aware of Ducky and McGee following on behind. In front of him he could see a crash cart being rushed into Tony's room, the medical personnel barely breaking stride and practically knocking the door off its hinges in their haste to get to their patient. Dread settled in the pit of Gibbs' stomach like a heavy stone. He stopped abruptly, his mind reeling: There was only one reason they'd need equipment like that – Tony must have flat-lined!

A comforting hand came to rest on Gibbs' shoulder and he was distantly aware that Ducky was talking to him, but it was just meaningless words. When the hand left his shoulder to grasp his arm and tried to lead him over to a nearby chair, he shook it off angrily. He refused to move and his gaze remained firmly fixed on the closed door to Tony's room as he concentrated on trying to will some of his strength through the barrier to his friend, who it seemed, was fighting for his life yet again.

Suddenly the door he was so focussed on opened and the crash cart was slowly pushed from the room, all sense of urgency having vanished. The departing medical team looked back, their expressions sombre and concerned and Gibbs' heart lurched in despair. Surely if the news had been good, there would have been smiles and relief at another life saved. He started moving again without conscious thought and tried to push his way into the room to get to Tony, only to be stopped when one of the nurses held up her hands to bar his way.

“I'm sorry Sir, you can't go in there,” she said firmly.

“Look lady, you can't stop me....” Gibbs began, before breaking off abruptly when he heard noises coming from inside the room. Someone was still in there - he could hear them talking and although he couldn't make out the words, the tone was soothing, as if to reassure. A loud clattering caused by something metallic hitting the floor was followed by a different voice sounding panicked and breathless. Gibbs had no idea what was going on, but he sure as hell recognised that second voice and, barely daring to hope, he surged past the nurse and burst into the room.

Once through the door, Gibbs could feel his jaw go slack with shock as he took in the scene before him: Tony, very much alive but definitely looking the worse for wear, was standing by the side of his bed with his gown torn down the front, his eyes wild and glassy. The effort of holding himself upright had his chest heaving rapidly as if he'd just competed a marathon and he was clinging to the back of a chair with single-minded determination. The multitude of wires that had been attached to his body to monitor his condition when Gibbs had left minutes before were strewn all over the place, fooling the machines into signalling a catastrophic change in the patient's condition. A young doctor was slowly edging towards him as if approaching a skittish horse.

“Please Mr DiNozzo, everything is fine,” the doctor said reassuringly. “No-one's going to hurt you. We just want to help.”

“Back...off!”Tony wheezed, urgently picking at the IV in the back of his right hand, trying to dislodge it. The IV pole lay on the floor in front of him, its bag of saline rapidly leaking fluid into an ever growing puddle. Tony's efforts became even more frantic when he realised the bulky cast encasing his broken arm was making it impossible to get a firm grip and, all the while, the doctor continued to edge closer.

“You heard the man, back off!” Gibbs barked with authority, stepping between the doctor and DiNozzo. “Can't you see you're making the situation worse? Let me handle this.” He turned to face his agent. “Stand down, DiNozzo. Everything's gonna be okay.”

Tony seemed to slump slightly with relief and looked up. “Boss! Kate's...here. Gotta....warn her! Gotta...save...her!” he insisted, fixing the older man with a determined stare from fever-bright eyes.

Gibbs was momentarily stunned but then said softly, “Tony, Kate's not here. She's gone. It's been five years.”

“No, no! Saw...her. Heard...her!” Tony insisted, desperately gasping for air. “Touched me...talked...to me...just now!”

“No Tony, you must have been dreaming,” Gibbs explained gently, as if talking to a small child.

“You're...lying. She's...here!” Tony insisted, feverishly picking at the IV again. Finally, in desperation, he lifted his hand to his mouth and tore away the adhesive with his teeth causing the needle it was holding in place to rip through his vein, spraying blood in every direction. The shock of the hot, wet liquid splattering across his face had the same effect as a physical slap and his head jerked awkwardly to the side.

When Tony turned back, the desolation in his eyes was plain for all to see. “Too...late!” he choked out, swaying dangerously as the last of his strength deserted him.

Gibbs realised Tony was about to collapse and surged forward to grab him just as his knees gave way. Thankfully the older man reached him in time to control the fall. He guided them to the floor, cushioning the impact as best he could, before manoeuvring them against the wall. Tony's body felt like a furnace and his eyes seemed to be focussed on something only he could see.

“Easy there, easy. I've got you,” he murmured as he automatically started a comforting rocking motion.

“Don't...un'erstand,” Tony whispered, his chest still heaving with the effort to breathe, but his frantic manner calming. “She...w's...here,” He swiped his injured hand across his face, smearing a scarlet trail across his cheek. “Kate's...blood. Still on me...Boss,” he gasped, staring at his hand as red droplets oozed onto the floor.

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“What's going on, Duck?” Gibbs demanded as soon as the ME emerged from Tony's room ten minutes later. “He was completely out of it and kept going on about Kate. It was like he was having some kind of flashback.”

“Well, at the risk of sounding like a talking textbook again,” Ducky began with a wry smile directed a his friend, “Anthony's condition means that not all the waste that's usually filtered and expelled by his kidneys is being dealt with efficiently and it's building up in his body. This waste includes harmful toxins in his blood, which at such high levels are leading him to become increasingly confused. There's also been a marked elevation in both his temperature and blood pressure which is just adding to the problem.”

“But why would he fixate on Kate?” McGee asked with a puzzled frown. “She died years ago.”

“Well, one of the nurses attending to Anthony's care is a petite brunette and I think it's possible he mistook her for dear Caitlyn,” Ducky said with a sad shake of his head. “I've just been speaking to her and she said he became agitated after you left to speak to Agent Fornell, Jethro, so she went to check on him. Apparently he was concerned that you weren't there, but quickly calmed down when she said you were just along the corridor. However, she did note that Anthony seemed a little confused and called her Kate a couple of times.”

“He mentioned the blue lights from the isolation unit at Bethesda earlier,” Gibbs said thoughtfully. “Do you think he could be confused enough to mix up memories from back then with what's going on now?”

“I suspect it's more than likely,” Ducky agreed. “His current breathing difficulties are bound to have dredged up some rather unpleasant memories from that dreadful time and if he thought Caitlyn was still alive, he would no doubt have felt compelled to try and save her from her eventual fate.”

“God, no wonder he got so upset,” McGee observed with a shiver.

“So what happens now?” Gibbs asked gruffly, refusing to let himself dwell on the past.

“Well in the circumstances, we've decided it's time to try dialysis,” Ducky replied. “If we allow the toxicity to rise much further, we're looking at the real possibility that Anthony's other organs could suffer some degree of damage.”

“Are you sure the dialysis will help?” McGee asked anxiously.

“I'm very hopeful, Timothy. It will remove the toxins from Anthony's body and relieve some of the pressure on his kidneys, giving them a better chance to recover from the effects of the Fentoxymorphone.”

“If that's the case, why the hell didn't you start him on it yesterday?” Gibbs demanded, unable to hide his anger.

“Because we're going to have to insert a catheter into his upper chest for vascular access!” Ducky replied heatedly. “If anaesthetising him had been an option, I would have recommended the treatment earlier. However, having Anthony awake and aware when you consider his aversion to being poked and prodded is another matter! I'm well aware that Tony's dislike of needles is bordering on a full-blown phobia and as we're only going to be able to use a local anaesthetic, I was hoping to spare him that ordeal if it wasn't absolutely necessary!”

Gibbs sighed heavily and rubbed at his eyes. “Aw hell, Duck, I know you're doing what's best for him, but dammit, I just want this to be over.”

“I understand, Jethro, we're all feeling a little wrung out at the moment. Why don't you let Timothy show you to the doctor's lounge,” Ducky suggested. “As soon as we have Anthony settled in the hemodialysis unit, I'll send word. The whole thing should take about five hours, so it might be an idea to see if you can get some sleep.” When Gibbs looked mutinous, Ducky didn't even try to argue the point, he just held up his hands in defeat. “It was only a suggestion.”

“Doctor Mallard!” a voice suddenly called from behind them and they all turned to see Jimmy Palmer hurrying along the corridor. “What's going on? I just saw Special Agent Sacks heading for the ER with what looked like a broken nose! I offered to help, but he practically bit my head off.”

“Oh Mr Palmer, I'm afraid you missed all the fun,” Ducky said as his assistant joined them. “The foolish man made the mistake of insulting the honour of our favourite team and Timothy decided to demonstrate his pugilistic skills in its defence. Unfortunately Agent Sacks' nose wasn't quite up to the task of resisting a well aimed punch!”

“Really?” Palmer replied excitedly, staring at McGee with open admiration. “Did Tony get to see it? I bet he....”

“Palmer, what are you doing here?” Gibbs interrupted impatiently.

“Oh hey, Agent Gibbs,” Jimmy said, raising his hand in a nervous greeting. “Abby called me in the middle of the night and pretty much demanded I drive her and little David up here to join you.”

“And you thought that was a good idea?” Gibbs growled at him menacingly. “Where are they? So help me, if you let her ditch the protection detail to get here, there'll be hell to pay!”

“What? Oh, no, no!” Jimmy stuttered. “Abby was really insistent, well you know how insistent she can be, but I told her it was a bad idea. I mean there could still be some bad guys lurking around and I knew you'd kill me if anything happened to them, so....” Jimmy's mouth suddenly became as dry as dust as Gibbs' glare confirmed just how right he'd been to stand his ground with Abby. He cleared his throat and swallowed a few times before continuing, “Um, anyway I told her you or Director Vance needed to okay it first and I knew you wouldn't do that without arranging for a proper escort and everything. It took me a while to persuade her, I mean, she can get really stubborn when she wants something...um, not that being stubborn is a bad thing, per se....”

“Non of that answers my question, Palmer,” Gibbs interrupted again, barely managing to sound civil. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, the only way I could get Abby to stay put was to promise I'd come up here myself and kind of be her eyes and ears, you know?” Jimmy replied with a smile that made him look even more petrified. “I've got to give her hourly reports and I have to tell you to call as soon as possible....”

Gibbs gave Palmer one of his patented glares. “So, you're giving me orders now, are you?”

“Oh no! I didn't mean to imply...I, I just....”

“Jethro, stop torturing the boy. I know you're worried, but this is not helping,” Ducky chided quietly, deciding it was time to intervene. “Why don't you go get yourself a coffee and calm down a little. Mr Palmer and I will ensure Anthony's transfer to the Renal Treatment Centre goes smoothly.”

“I don't need a break, I'm okay,” Gibbs insisted angrily. “I want to go with him.”

“Look, Jethro, in Anthony's confused state I'm sure he'd benefit from a familiar presence, but if you can't keep your anger in check, you're just going to cause him more distress,” Ducky explained. “He's going to find the insertion of the catheter enough of a trial without you trying to maim anyone who gets near him and I'd much rather wait until he's settled before I send for you.”

Gibbs looked torn. After the traumas of the last week and especially the events of that morning, he was loath to let Tony out of his sight again. However, Ducky was right and he didn't know if he could control the urge to rip into anyone who hurt the younger man again, however necessary the reason.

Ducky could see the uncertainty in his friend's eyes and decided to push the issue. “It can be very wearing dealing with someone who's confused and upset and if you're going to be any use to him in the next few hours, you're going to have to stay calm enough to offer the reassurance he needs. I know you're usually capable of doing that for Tony, but right now I think you need to take a little time to get yourself into the right frame of mind, otherwise I'll have to insist you leave this to me.”

“Fine, I take your point,” Gibbs agreed with a reluctant nod. “I need to make a few calls anyway. I'll be back soon.

As he turned to leave, Ducky gestured for McGee to follow him. “Make sure he gets something to eat as well,” he ordered.

“I'll do my best,” McGee replied over his shoulder as he set off to follow his boss.

As the other two men walked away, Jimmy heaved a huge sigh of relief and slumped against the wall, much to Ducky's amusement.

“Oh Jimmy, how come a bright, intelligent young man such as yourself transforms into a gibbering idiot whenever Jethro is around? When are you going to realise he actually likes you?”

“B...but, he barely tolerates me, Doctor Mallard,” Jimmy protested unhappily.

“Which on the Jethro Gibbs scale of social interaction, equates to a quite fond affection my lad,” Ducky pointed out with a chuckle.

NcisNCISncis

As Ducky had predicted the first hour or so of the dialysis had been a gruelling affair, with a restless Tony seeking constant reassurance that everything was alright. It seemed every few minutes he felt the need to check that Gibbs was still there before voicing rambling concerns about the safety of the rest of the team. His need to save Kate was obviously uppermost in his thoughts though, as he repeatedly urged Gibbs to find her and warn her about Ari.

Being constantly reminded of his failure to protect Kate had been extremely hard for Gibbs to take, but he'd remained determinedly at Tony's side and thankfully, as the younger man's condition steadily started to improve, she was mentioned less and less. Instead, Davey became the main focus of Tony's concern and he alternated between thinking the little boy was lost to being convinced he was hurt. However, as the dialysis did its job, he eventually fell silent and was soon fast asleep.

Tony hadn't stirred throughout the remainder of the dialysis session, or during the transfer back to his room and once he was settled, Ducky had managed to beg, bully and cajole until Gibbs reluctantly agreed to get some sleep himself. The fact that he'd been out like a light mere seconds after his head hit the pillow on his borrowed cot, underlined how exhausted he'd been. Nevertheless, by early evening he was back in Tony's room, settled in a chair by the bed and dozing lightly until a voice jolted him awake.

“Boss? What's going on?”

Here we go again, Gibbs thought as he got up and mindful of the dressing on the other man's right hand, took hold of his forearm instead. “Everything's fine, DiNozzo. You've been hurt and you're in the hospital, but there's nothing for you to worry about. Everything's under control,” he soothed, repeating the words he'd said over and over again that day.

“Well, duh,” Tony replied moving his head to squint sideways at his boss. “I meant, have they changed my cast and done all their poking and prodding yet 'cause I'm so ready to go home.”

Gibbs examined Tony closely. His voice still held a husky quality to it that wasn't normal and there was a slight hitch in his breathing every now and then, but his eyes were clear and he seemed lucid enough.

“What?” Tony questioned when Gibbs didn't reply immediately. “Don't say they wanna keep me in. The pain's not so bad, I just feel tired.”

“That might be because you've been out of it for the better part of a day, DiNozzo,” Gibbs pointed out. “What's the last thing you remember clearly?”

Tony looked a little stunned at the news and took a few moments to reply. “Um, we were in Gallo's apartment an' Ducky said I had to get checked out at the hospital, then he gave me a shot.” He paused and chewed on his bottom lip. “I didn't do anything stupid did I?”

“Not right then, but I'd say letting the FBI dope you up with a drug, that's not even FDA approved, was hands down the most idiotic thing you have ever done!”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” Gibbs repeated incredulously as he let the worry that had been gnawing on him for the last few days morph into anger. “Is that all you've got to say? Don't you get it? The damned stuff almost killed you for chrissakes! You're lucky I'm not standing in the morgue right now talking to your lifeless body.”

“Well, how about we put this all down to me having one of your mad Maddie Tyler moments and then we can forget about it, huh?” Tony suggested flippantly.

“What the hell does that mean?” Gibbs demanded, more than a little surprised at Tony's reply.

“You know, that crazy urge to rush off and do something kinda stupid even though you've got the best of intentions because you can't see any other way to protect the people you love?” Tony explained with a steely glare at Gibbs. “You don't exactly hold the moral high ground here, Boss. You went all lone wolf on us when Maddie was kidnapped and if I hadn't 've gone looking for you....”

Tony broke off abruptly as images from that terrible day flashed through his mind. “Christ Gibbs, don't ever do that to me again. When the bullets started flying and you reversed off that dock straight into the water, you damn near gave me a heart attack. Then when you made me take Maddie to the surface first, knowing you were trapped in the car....” He stopped again, taking a few gulps of air. “I can't even describe what it felt like when I dived back in to help you and... and.... Crap!” he wheezed in frustration. “When I hear the word 'lifeless', do you know what I see? I see you under the water, your legs pinned beneath a car's steering column, your body swaying in the current and your dead eyes staring back at me accusingly because I didn't save you!”

“Hey, hey, calm down!” Gibbs urged, his anger vanishing as quickly as it had surfaced when Tony's breathing became more and more rapid and laboured. He pulled the younger man forward and started coaching him through the exercises Doctor Pitt had taught them during Tony's recovery from the plague.

When his breathing was back under control, Tony looked up with a grateful smile. “Thanks. I guess I didn't realise how much anger I'd bottled up over you not trusting me on that one.” When Gibbs looked like he was going to contradict him, he held up his hand. “I know, I get it now. It was personal and you didn't want to put us in danger when it wasn't about the job, but you should've done. It's like me, I know I should've waited and let you help, but then if something had gone wrong, neither of us would've been there for Davey. I couldn't let that happen and after all, I was just following rule forty-five,” he explained..

Gibbs looked at him, his expression puzzled. “Clean up your messes?”

“Yeah, and even though it was my dad's mess, it became my responsibility when it threatened the people I love.”

“Fine, you get a free pass for this one, but if you try a stunt like that again, I'll kick your ass so hard Davey's kids will feel it, understood?” Gibbs mock growled.

“Okay, but if you try that shit again yourself, I will get in your face about it and now I've got Davey to back me up too.”

Gibbs gripped the back of Tony's neck and gave a light squeeze. “What say we both agree that from now on, rule fifteen supersedes all other rules, huh?

“Always work as a team? I can live with that,” Tony agreed with a lop-sided grin.

TBC


	22. Chapter 22

The two men maintained eye contact for a few more seconds before Tony let out a tired sigh and settled back onto his pillows with a groan.

“Oh Man, why do I feel like I've just gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson?” he asked, attempting to inch his way into a more comfortable position without causing a spike in the various aches and pains that were finally making themselves known. He caught the change in Gibbs' expression at his comment and could just imagine the older man's right hand itching to make contact with the back of his head. “Stupid question, huh?”

“Ya think, DiNozzo?” Gibbs replied, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

“Yeah, um, well, I'm guessing the large tubey thing sticking out of my chest means I'm not going anywhere for a while, huh?” Tony said glumly. He'd been studiously ignoring said 'tubey thing' since he'd first woken up, but it definitely suggested he wouldn't be receiving his discharge papers any time soon. 

“Well, that kinda depends on your latest test results,” Gibbs replied. “Ducky and the doctors seem happy with your progress, but you might still need another dialysis session.” 

“Dialysis?” Tony practically squeaked in surprise. 

Gibbs raised an eyebrow, his expression deadly serious. “Did you think I was joking about the almost dying part, DiNozzo? That crap the FBI gave you affected your kidneys and almost caused your other organs to shut down. We're just damned lucky you seem to have come through this without any permanent damage.”

“Oh,” Tony managed to murmur distractedly. Had he really come that close to checking out permanently – again? “Sorry Boss.”

Gibbs didn't bother brushing aside the apology and let it stand; it probably wouldn't stop Tony from throwing himself in harms way next time there was trouble, but a man could dream.

“Right,” he announced brusquely as he got to his feet. “The doctors'll want to know you're back in the land of the living and the sooner we get you sorted, the sooner we can get outta here.”

“Good idea, Boss,” Tony agreed, “but could you maybe word it so it sounds less like you're talking about having me fixed?” 

Gibbs gave Tony a speculative look. “Now there's an idea,” he mused. “Worked wonders for settling down a young Coonhound I had as a kid.”

“D...don't...don't even joke about things like that!” Tony sputtered looking horrified. 

Gibbs just grinned and headed for the door.

NcisNCISncis

By the time Gibbs was allowed back into Tony's room, the latest test results were back and everyone had let out a collective sigh of relief at the numbers. The dialysis seemed to have done its job and Tony's kidney function was almost back to normal. As a result, the vascular cannula had been removed and the temporary cast they'd put on Tony's broken arm when he'd been admitted had been replaced by a new, permanent one.

“You up for visitors?” Gibbs asked as soon as he walked through the door. “Vance is on his way.”

Vance. Just the sound of the man's name made Tony's stomach lurch unhappily and sent his anxiety level soaring. He looked down and started playing with the stitching on the sheet covering his chest. 

“I can't imagine our esteemed Director is taking this very well,” he said, trying for a casual tone and failing miserably. “I mean, the guy already thinks I'm a joke and now I've gone and given him a golden opportunity to get rid of me for good.”

“Oh really? And since when did you become such an expert on me and my opinions, Agent DiNozzo?” a familiar voice drawled from the doorway.

Tony jerked his head up to see Vance standing there watching him with a grim look on his face. Damn! Couldn't Gibbs have said the man was right behind him? He resisted the urge to dodge the issue and took a calming breath before saying, “No offence Director, but you've made it pretty clear you don't think that much of me.”

Vance gave a wry smile. “Oh, I won't deny you had me fooled there for a while and you are the biggest pain in the ass I've ever worked with - bar one,” he admitted, pausing to stare meaningfully over at Gibbs, who shrugged unrepentantly. “That doesn't mean I'm incapable of changing my mind. I've come to appreciate your unique talents over the years, even if I don't always approve of your methods.” 

Tony's jaw dropped open involuntarily at the unexpected praise and the only coherent thought his brain managed to process was that maybe alien body-snatchers really had landed: Suddenly, checking basements for man-sized pods didn't seem so far fetched after all.

“Congratulations Sir,” Gibbs said as he and Vance shared an amused look at Tony's reaction. “I think you've shocked him into silence.” 

“So it would seem,” Vance replied with the hint of a smile on his lips. “I must admit, I never thought I'd see the day when he was lost for words.”

Just then, there was a cursory knock on the door and all three men looked over to see Special Agent Fornell enter the room.

“Tobias, so help me, if Sacks is with you....” Gibbs snarled aggressively.

Fornell held up his hands placatingly. “I'm alone, Jethro,” he assured his friend. “I don't think Ron's nose could take another hit right now, do you?” 

“You punched Sacks in the nose?” Tony asked, sounding a little stunned.

“Nope,” Gibbs replied. “McGee did. Broke it too.” 

“What? McGee?” Tony sounded incredulous. Tim might have gotten used to routinely hacking other organisations' computers and the like, but assaulting another agent with enough force to break his nose? Either those body-snatchers were pulling some serious overtime or he'd slipped into an alternate universe.

“That drug affect your hearing as well, DiNozzo?” Gibbs snapped, still struggling to let go of the anger Fornell's arrival had caused.

“Um, no Boss, but - McGee?” 

Gibbs shrugged. “He was provoked. Sacks was bad-mouthing you and the team.” 

“Wow! Way to go, Tim!”

“Okay look, Ron accepts he was out of line and he's not reporting the incident, so can we put this thing to bed now and concentrate on the case?” Fornell asked with a pained expression on his face. “He's over at the psych unit at Bellevue and won't be back.”

“Don't tell me he's finally flipped his lid,” Tony snorted.

“No, but it looks like Gallo has,” Fornell revealed unexpectedly. “I've been told he was foaming at the mouth, fighting tooth and nail to get at you at the apartment, DiNozzo, and it seems to have sent him over the edge. Once they realised he wasn't going to calm down, they diverted to the hospital for a psych consult.” 

“Please tell me you've got him locked down tight,” Tony said with a shudder. “He just wanted me and Davey dead before I played him. Can you imagine what he'd do to us now, as a warm up to the main event?”

“Don't worry, he's in a secure unit and we have four agents there at any one time to guard him,” Fornell assured him.

Vance shook his head. “What worries me most is that Gallo was barely a blip on the FBI's radar a week ago and now we're playing catch up. We have very little intel on him, we don't know how far his influence reaches and we don't know what resources might be brought to bear to get him out.”

“We've got problems with the media too,” Fornell admitted. “Questions are being asked as to why NCIS agents were included in a civilian operation and interest in the story is growing. Once Gallo's arrest is linked to Senior's murder, all hell could break loose.”

Vance worried at the toothpick in the corner of his mouth. “Even a whiff of mob involvement on Senior's part could throw suspicion onto his partners as well and even their other projects would come under scrutiny. Once business confidence is dented like that, it could have far reaching implications for the economy.”

“How did they find out NCIS was involved?” Gibbs asked sounding annoyed. He didn't give a rat's ass about 'far reaching implications for the economy'. What he did care about were his friends and family and he suspected all this conjecture was leading to something he wouldn't be happy about.

“Well, it won't have come from the FBI,” Tony scoffed. “They'd never share credit for a bust.”

“I don't suppose it could have anything to do with the requisition of a state of the art helicopter flying directly from the Navy Yard to the scene of a high profile arrest, could it?” Fornell replied sarcastically.

“Come on, Tobias, out with it,” Gibbs growled. “What have your bosses sent you to tell us?”

Fornell looked decidedly uncomfortable. “They're going to issue a statement to derail the issue of mob involvement and explain away the use of NCIS agents,” he admitted. “It will read as if Senior originally thought Gallo was a legitimate businessman. When he became suspicious of Gallo's activities he visited his federal agent son to seek advice. The FBI were alerted to the situation and as a result, a joint operation was formed which ultimately led to the sting operation. Unfortunately, Senior was tragically murdered by Gallo when his involvement in the investigation was somehow discovered.”

“Wow, those guys are good,” Tony said, feeling nauseous at the spin they'd placed on the situation. “Skew the story a little, make sure there's a few facts mixed in and, hey presto, you satisfy the papers and calm some jittery nerves on Wall Street. Who knew my dad would end up a national hero.”

“Yeah, why let the truth spoil a perfectly good story,” Gibbs growled in disgust, giving Tony's arm a supportive squeeze.

“I'm sorry, DiNozzo. None of this was my call,” Fornell said, his tone genuinely apologetic. 

“Yeah, I know,” Tony agreed with a tired sigh, “but it doesn't change the fact that the one time NCIS gets some good press from you guys, it kinda makes the target on my back a little bigger.” He turned to Gibbs and let out another sigh. “We're heading back to the safe house when I'm released from here aren't we?” 

“Not if you change your mind about Stillwater,” Gibbs replied giving Tony an assessing look. The details had already been hashed out between himself, the director and his father. All they needed now was Tony's agreement. 

“Boss, I told you I don't wanna drag your dad into my family problems,” Tony mumbled unhappily. 

“And I told you he's a tough old coot who'd be offended if we didn't,” Gibbs reminded him. When Tony still looked undecided, he added, “I didn't even get a chance to ask, Tony. As soon as I filled him in on what's been happening, he offered.” 

“There's every chance Gallo's associates will be too busy fighting over what's left of his little empire to be bothered with his personal vendettas,” Vance pointed out, deciding to add his weight to the argument. “From what Romano's already told us, any loyalty Gio enjoyed from his men was out of respect for his father, Salvatore, or from fear of being killed if they didn't toe the line. 

“Barring any complications, you'll be discharged in the morning and I can arrange for Davey and the others to be brought here before you travel on to Stillwater tomorrow afternoon.” 

“What, with men in black suits and shades lurking around every corner?” Tony asked gloomily. “I don't want that for Davey.”

“No FBI,” Vance assured him. “We'll set up some electronic surveillance and keep a discreet watch for a few days, although Mr Gibbs informs me that the town's 'jungle telegraph' should warn you well before any bad guys can get close.”

“Ya gotta love small towns,” Gibbs observed with a wry smile. “Everyone knows everyone else, so strangers stick out like sore thumbs.”

“Now wait a minute, Director Vance,” Fornell protested. “The FBI still has lead on this case and I don't think my bosses are gonna sign off on that idea. There's still the issue of the missing flash drive.” 

“So you didn't find anything at any of my father's properties?” Tony asked.

“We've seized a load of documents to go through later and some looked as if they may be of interest, but no flash drive,” Fornell replied, his expression unreadable.

“What if Buchetta lied at the end?” Tony asked with a troubled frown as an unpleasant idea suddenly struck him. If the powers that be weren't above messing with the truth to get what they wanted, what about a notorious mob boss?

“Go on, DiNozzo,” Gibbs urged, recognising the look on Tony's face that meant he'd had one of those flashes of inspiration that so often broke a case wide open. 

“Think about it - Buchetta must have realised that whatever he said or did, Gallo was gonna kill him anyway, so why not make sure my dad suffered the same fate? He couldn't settle the score personally, but he could set Gallo up to do it for him. All he had to do was plant the idea that Senior had a second flash drive and he could die with the satisfaction of knowing my dad was gonna be next.” 

“God, that's cold,” Fornell murmured, looking disturbed by the idea.

“Yeah, but it makes sense,” Tony replied. “Gives a new twist to the concept of murder by proxy, huh? Hitchcock would've loved it.”

Vance gave a grim nod. “It's a plausible theory, especially when you consider there's not a trace of evidence to prove the flash drive ever existed, just the say so of a desperate man.”

“Heartless and vindictive, more like,” Gibbs growled. “There's only one reason Buchetta would say that flash drive was in Davey's belongings and that's to make sure the kid was taken out too.” 

“Oh God, now that is truly sick!” Tony exclaimed, not having thought the whole idea through to its natural conclusion. “Why would he do that? He had kids of his own and even tried to get Davey to call him Uncle Carmine for chrissakes!”

“How do these mobsters justify anything they do?” Fornell said with an angry shrug. “We see them with their wives and children, going to church almost every Sunday and yet they seem to view possessing morals and a conscience as optional extras!” 

“Okay, I think we can call it a night,” Vance announced, checking his watch. All the main points had been covered and anything else could wait for the morning. “So, are you okay with spending a few weeks up in Stillwater until we assess any potential risks to you returning home, DiNozzo?”

“I guess so,” Tony agreed almost meekly. He felt wrung-out and exhausted and didn't have the strength to argue any more. In a week full of roller-coaster ups and downs, with shocks and revelations coming thick and fast, this latest bombshell felt like the last straw: Buchetta had not only orchestrated his father's murder, he'd planned for Davey to die too - apparently just for the hell of it. At least Gallo had the excuse of being some kind of nut job. 

“Right then, I'll get the wheels in motion,” Vance confirmed brusquely. “C'mon Fornell, let's go and tell your bosses they're not having their own way this time.”

Fornell rolled his eyes heavenward. “Oh joy,” he dead-panned as he headed for the door.

As soon as the other two men had left the room, Gibbs turned his attention back to Tony. He was concerned at how quickly all the fight seemed to have gone out of the younger man.

“Are you really okay with all this?” he asked quietly. “I honestly think it's the best option.”

Tony let out another tired sigh. “Yeah, I know it is,” he agreed. “It's just that I keep thinking I really want to go home, and then remember it's not possible because the bastards trashed all my stuff.”

“The important thing is that you're still in one piece. More or less,” Gibbs said with a smirk, trying to lighten the mood. “Stuff is just stuff that can be replaced by other stuff.”

“Wow Boss, don't get all highbrow philosophical on me there,” Tony replied, managing to raise a chuckle. “Stuff is just stuff, huh?”

“You forgot the, 'that can be replaced by other stuff' part,” Gibbs corrected him. “And I bet it'll be pretty expensive 'other stuff', knowing you.”

“Well it ain't gonna be a shopping spree at K-Mart or Seers, that's for sure,” Tony agreed. He tried moving a little to his right to relieve the tension across his shoulders and hissed sharply at the pain. “Typical,” he huffed in disgust. “The one time I'd be happy to get some of the good drugs and I'm stuck taking Tylenol”.

Gibbs got up and gently re-arranged Tony's pillows into a more comfortable position and then tapped the younger man lightly on the forehead.

“There ya go, now get some sleep,” he ordered gruffly. “We've got a long day tomorrow and you look like something out of one of those damned fool zombie movies you love so much.”

“Yeah, I kinda feel that way too,” Tony admitted, allowing his heavy-lidded eyes to slide shut. 

The room was quiet for a few minutes and Gibbs thought Tony had fallen asleep until he spoke up again.

“Not all zombie movies are bad, ya know,” he said conversationally. “Take 'The Night of the Living Dead' for example - a real classic. The Library of Congress even chose it to be preserved in the National Film Registry. That's the 1968 version of course, not the....”

It only took a barked, “DiNozzo!”, from Gibbs to silence the mini-lecture mid-sentence.

Tony didn't open his eyes, but his face bore a half smile and he murmured, “Right. Sleep. On it Boss.” 

TBC


	23. Chapter 23

By ten o'clock the following morning, Tony was heartily sick of the poking, prodding and incessant questions that always seemed to precede being discharged from the hospital. With a herculean effort, he'd stayed calm and polite and finally managed to convince the doctors he was well enough to leave. Promises to take things easy and get plenty of rest had been given, with just enough sincerity to be believed, and all that remained was the arrival of his discharge papers.

As he lay there on top of the bed covers, Tony allowed himself to luxuriate in the fact that he was finally free of the IV lines and was wearing a set of comfortable sweats instead of a draughty hospital gown. Admittedly, he was looking at follow up appointments at Bethesda in the near future and it would still be a while before he was able to move around freely, but he was making progress and that was enough for now. Even Gibbs had stopped hovering and had disappeared to arrange their visit to Stillwater.

Tony smiled wryly to himself. A few years ago the thought of spending a couple of weeks holed up in a quiet backwater town like Stillwater would have filled him with dread and now he couldn't wait to get there. It still concerned him that they might be leading trouble to Jackson Gibbs' door, but he couldn't deny he was looking forward to spending time with the old man and introducing him to Davey. 

As his thoughts turned to the little boy, Tony's smile widened; it was still a little mind-blowing to think he had a son, and a pretty amazing one at that. Davey was such an easy kid to love and the urge to keep him safe had kicked in almost from their first meeting. Thankfully, his biggest worry there had been dealt with earlier that morning when his new will had been couriered over for his signature: With Gibbs and Abby named as joint guardians should anything ever happened to him, he had no worries that Davey would ever want for love and support, especially with their unconventional extended family also eager to help out.

The most pressing problem weighing on his mind now was how to explain to a three year old child that he'd suddenly gained a father instead of a brother. Tony's brain hurt just thinking about it, but surely there had to be a way; there'd been enough family secrets uncovered recently and Davey deserved to know the truth. 

Tony's silent musings were suddenly interrupted by a noisy commotion up the hallway from his room and he was immediately on full alert. There was an NCIS guard posted outside his door and Gibbs and McGee would be close by, but he wasn't used to feeling so vulnerable. Cursing his lack of mobility, he was still contemplating rolling out of bed to at least face any assailant in a standing position, when McGee slipped into the room and gave Tony a reassuring smile. 

“I just wanted to warn you, Abby and Davey are on their way with the rest of the team,” his friend said quickly. “She's causing a bit of a stir at the nurses' station because she's brought a gift basket to thank the staff for looking after you.”

Tony felt relief wash over him and he grinned in response. “Please tell me she's brought some decent food. I'm starving!”

Before McGee could reply, the door was flung open and Abby clomped in wearing her buckled, knee-high boots and a long black coat, buttoned to the neck; Davey was in her arms, resting on one hip and clinging on for dear life. The rest of the team filed in behind them.

“Tony! Don't you dare sneak off like that again without telling us, mister!” Abby demanded tearfully as she rushed towards the bed. When she reached him, she made a fist and lightly nudged his upper arm. “Consider that a punch for being so stupid,” she explained before enveloping him in an awkward, one armed hug and then standing back. “I'll give you a real one when you're feeling better.”

Tony had the good sense to look contrite. “Sorry I worried you, Abs,” he apologised, nodding his head over to where Gibbs was standing. “The boss has already had words about my disappearing act and I've promised not to do it again, okay?” 

“Pinkie swear, just to make sure!” Abby demanded, extending her finger towards him. Tony dutifully complied and she gave a satisfied smile before depositing Davey on the bed next to him.

The little boy looked pale and worried and his gaze seemed to swing from Tony to Gibbs and back again every few seconds.

“Hey, buddy, are you okay?” Tony asked in concern.

Davey shook his head mutely and sucked his lower lip between his teeth. 

“He was really worried, Tony,” Abby explained. “He thinks people who don't say goodbye won't be coming back.”

“Hey, everything's alright, I'm here,” Tony soothed, awkwardly tucking the little boy underneath his chin and giving him a reassuring hug.

“You need to say bye an' see you soon, 'kay?” Davey whispered miserably. 

“Aw, I'm so sorry I left like that, I really am,” Tony murmured into the boy's hair, “but that bad chicken man wanted to hurt you and I had to stop him. It's my job to keep you safe now and I'm not gonna let you down.”

“Boss was real mad, Tony. Real mad,” Davey whispered again, snuggling himself even closer. 

“But I'm not mad any more, I promise,” Gibbs said reassuringly. “We've had a talk about it and everything's okay now. Right, Tony?”

“Absolutely,” Tony agreed with a firm nod. “We caught the bad man, nobody's angry any more and and I'm gonna be able to run around and play with you in no time.”

Davey lifted his head a fraction and gave Gibbs an assessing look. Sure enough, he didn't seem mad any more and he was even smiling a little, but one thing still worried the little boy.

“But why are you all painted?” he asked. “You look funny.” 

Tony stared back blankly. “Painted?”

“I think he means your bruises,” McGee said with a slight grimace at the vivid, multi-coloured marks around Tony's throat. “You do kinda look like some weird art project gone wrong.”

“Thanks for that!” Tony replied sarcastically, before turning his attention back to Davey. “Don't worry buddy, Timmy's right, its just some bruises and they don't really hurt.”

“Oh, so you're talking like Joan Rivers out of choice then?” McGee snorted, trying to lighten the mood.

“Hey, stop picking on the sick guy,” Tony admonished good naturedly before his look turned speculative. “Anyway, Rocky McMarciano, since when did you develop a mean left hook? I hear you decked Slacks with a doozy.”

McGee let out an embarrassed cough. “Yeah, well, I let him get to me, okay? Won't happen again.”

“Aw, but I missed it!” Tony whined. “I'd have paid good money to see the look on that smug bas....” He stopped abruptly when Gibbs nudged his leg and gestured to where Davey was looking on with interest. “Um, I mean, the look on that idiot's face,” he finished lamely. 

“Yes, it was rather satisfying,” Ducky agreed. “Mr Palmer missed the event by mere seconds and he's been bemoaning his own bad luck ever since.” 

“I did get to see his broken nose though! It looked really painful and there was lots of blood,” Jimmy said with obvious relish. “I offered to help, but Agent Sacks refused. He was quite grumpy about it actually.”

Tony couldn't help laughing at his young friend's enthusiastic description of the scene and decided it was almost as good as being there. “At least tell me you brought some food as compensation.” 

“DiNozzo, you had breakfast less than two hours ago,” Gibbs pointed out, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

“Hey, I'm healing! I need the extra energy!” Tony insisted. “Besides, you can't really call runny oatmeal and green jello, breakfast.” 

“Absolutely not!” Abby agreed with a grimace. She gestured for Ziva to hand over the bag she was carrying and then presented it to Tony. “I knew they'd be expecting you to eat all that yucky gunk and you need proper food to get your strength back.”

“Abs, you're a lifesaver,” Tony murmured happily as he started unpacking what looked like a treasure trove of comfort food. 

“I did try to get balloons too, but the Boss-man was being all grinchy and rushed us past the gift shop,” Abby complained, frowning over at Gibbs.

“Hey, it's the thought that counts,” Tony replied warmly, tucking into a triple chocolate muffin with gusto. 

“Yeah, I guess so, but after all the bizarro 'almosts' this week, we really need to celebrate the fact that you're still alive,” Abby said. “I mean, how many people survive almost getting squashed by a car, almost being strangled by a crazy Mob boss and then almost dying again when some stupid FBI doctor poisons them – all in the space of a week!” 

“Hey, and don't forget that you almost got yourself a brother too, Tony,” Jimmy chimed in as he rummaged around in another bag looking for napkins. The deafening silence following his comment caused him to look up in surprise, to see that all eyes had turned to Davey.

The little boy looked stricken and a couple of fat tears rolled down his cheeks. “You...don't want...want to be...my...my brother?” he stuttered.

“Of course he does!” Abby exclaimed immediately, putting a soothing hand on Davey's head and glaring over at Jimmy. “Jimmy's just trying to be funny and sometimes he's not very good at it!”

“Indeed!” Ducky agreed, frowning at his assistant. “Really, Mr Palmer, please engage your brain before you open your mouth. Tony hasn't had a chance to explain the situation to the young lad yet.”

“Oh! Oh, I'm so sorry!” Jimmy managed to choke out. “I didn't realise, I mean I didn't know. That is, I never would have said anything if I'd known....”

Tony tuned out Jimmy's rambling apology and focused all of his attention on his son, who was sitting there looking heartbroken. 

“I do want you and we are family, I promise,” he said, silently urging Davey to somehow sense his sincerity. He sat there racking his brain, willing the right words to come to explain the situation, but what could he say? 'Davey, I am your father. Search your feelings. You know it to be true'? God, he was in serious trouble if paraphrasing Darth Vader was all he could come up with! 

Tony ruthlessly suppressed the urge to giggle hysterically at that idea and tried again. 'Well Davey, the man you thought was your father was really your selfish, sneaky rat bastard grandfather, who stole my sperm and got someone to create an embryo in a lab somewhere and then hired a womb to grow you in. Then, he got himself killed after tangling with the Mob and left us all in a whole heap of trouble trying to deal with a pissed off psycho.' Oh yeah, going from quoting a Star Wars film to detailing the plot of some weird TV movie of the week was really going to help – not!

Ducky looked on as Tony's expressive face clearly showed his internal struggle to come up with an answer for the little tyke, but when it looked like no inspiration was going to be forthcoming, he stepped forward. 

“I think I might be better suited to explaining the situation to young David, if you'll allow me,” he offered.

Tony looked up, his expression a weird mixture of doubt and hope. He felt it should be his responsibility, yet he knew he'd never find the right words to put what had happened into simple enough terms for Davey to understand.

“Are you sure, Ducky?”

“Of course, although I must admit, I never thought I'd ever have occasion to try and explain the birds and the bees to a three year old.” He gave Davey a reassuring smile and moved to help the child off the bed, just as his administrator friend entered the room with a disapproving look on her face.

“Ah, Margaret, I do apologise,” Ducky began, picking up on her annoyance immediately. “I realise we've been flouting your policy on visitor numbers, but I'm afraid our concern for Anthony got the better of us. Now that we've all seen that he's well on the road to recovery, we'll be taking our leave, won't we?” He emphasised the last two words, giving everyone a meaningful stare and then inclining his head towards the door.

Margaret's expression softened a little at Ducky's words. “No harm done, I suppose,” she conceded. “Although once Agent DiNozzo has signed these discharge papers, he'll be free to go with you.”

As Tony eagerly took the paperwork and pen she offered him, Ducky steered Davey and the others out of the door, intent on making a quick exit: Margaret was a dear friend of many years standing, but she did have a fearsome temper if she felt aggrieved and he preferred not to try her patience.

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Twenty minutes later, Gibbs had finalised their transport arrangements to Stillwater and returned with Abby and a couple of orderlies, who were there to transfer Tony into a wheelchair. 

Abby busied herself packing up his things during the procedure, although she kept sneaking surreptitious looks to see how he was coping with the move. With the doctors deciding to err on the side of caution until after the tests at Bethesda, Tony had agreed to forego stronger medication and had only been given ibuprofen to help with the pain. Unfortunately it didn't seem to be helping very much, if the way he was holding himself was anything to go by.

Tony, for his part, was too distracted to take much notice, as worry gnawed in the pit of his stomach: Just how was Ducky going pull this off and explain everything to Davey? Was he old enough to understand? Even if he was, would he be happy about the situation? Before he could tie himself in knots with the questions flying around in his head, Ducky and Gibbs walked back into the room with a pensive looking Davey clutching their hands. 

“Is everything okay?” Tony asked anxiously.

“Yes, everything's fine,” Ducky replied with a broad smile. “We had a nice chat over milkshakes in the cafeteria, didn't we, my boy?”

“Uh, huh,” Davey agreed, not giving much away.

“So you understood what Ducky explained to you?” Tony pushed, looking dubious. “About why I'm not really your brother?”

“Uh, huh,” Davey said again, although this time he seemed a lot more enthusiastic. “Father wanted a new baby an' you need juice an' eggs to make one, but he didn't have any juice left, 'cause his was all gone, so he took some of yours, 'cause you had lots an' saved some to share, 'cause you're kind, but father was naughty an' didn't say please – he just took it an' you didn't know!” 

Davey paused for breath and looked scandalised at his supposed father's lack of manners. Suddenly a dazzling grin appeared on his face and he announced, “So now you get to be my daddy, 'cause I'm made from your juice, not his, an' that's how it works!” With a little help, he managed to clamber onto Tony's lap and gave him a quick hug. “I'm real glad you're my daddy now.”

“Me too, buddy, me too,” Tony assured him, managing to force the words past the huge lump in his throat. He gave Ducky a grateful smile and then said, “So, do you wanna stay on my knee and have your first ride-along with your old dad?” 

“Sure!” Davey agreed, obviously delighted by the idea. “Boss said I could, 'cause I missed it last time. He says you gotta promise to stay away from hospitals though.”

“That's right, DiNozzo,”Gibbs warned. “When I said there'd be other opportunities to give the kid a ride-along, even I didn't think you could manage one in less than a week.”

Tony gave Gibbs a cheeky grin. “You know me, Boss. I'm full of surprises.” 

“Yeah? Well for once, I'd like to be surprised by how long you can go without sustaining bodily harm, okay?” he replied, his face deadly serious.

“I promise to do my best,” Tony agreed, sobering immediately.

“Alright then, lets get going.”

“Are we really going on vacation?” Davey asked excitedly. “The don show man said we were an' I never did that before.”

“The Don Show man?” Tony asked, looking up to see that the others seemed equally puzzled. 

“You know, the ed don show man,” the little boy replied as if that should explain everything.

“Um, I think he means Vance,” Abby admitted with a sheepish grin. 

“Vance?”

“Yeah. Remember, Gibbs? I called him the head honcho on the phone the other day and afterwards, Davey asked who I was talking about.”

“Aaah, head honcho/Ed Don Show,” Ducky mused aloud. “I must say, I'm rather glad the lad chose to call me Ducky. The alternatives really don't bear thinking about.”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed with a snort of laughter as a sudden thought struck him.

“Something you'd like to share, DiNozzo?” Gibbs asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I was just thinking, we're lucky Davey decided to call you Boss, Boss,” Tony replied, his eyes dancing with mischief. “I mean, think about it, otherwise you could've ended up as the second beaver man.” He looked expectantly at the others, only to be met with more puzzled faces. “Aw, c'mon, don't you get it? The second 'b'? Second 'b' for....”

This time Abby and Ducky started to laugh whilst Gibbs gave a long-suffering sigh and decided Tony was well enough for a well aimed slap to the back of his head. He delivered it quickly and then gripped the handles of the wheelchair, setting a brisk pace towards the elevator.

Davey held on tight as they began to move and looked up with a bewildered expression.

Gibbs smiled down and gave him a reassuring wink. “Don't worry about it kiddo. Daddy Doofus here thought he was being funny and I was just putting him straight. Now where did you say we were heading?” he asked.

“Vacation!” Davey whooped happily.

TBC


	24. Chapter 24

McGee was in the process of logging off from the computer at the nurses' station when Davey's enthusiastic whoop let him know his team mates were on the move. He removed a flash drive from the USB port and hastily stuffed it into his pocket just as they came into view: The adults in the group looked happy and relaxed and McGee couldn't help smiling too when he realised little Davey was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Are we good to go?” Gibbs asked as soon as they reached him.

“Yes, Boss,” McGee replied, suddenly all business. “Ziva and a couple of Agent Chandler's men are waiting for us downstairs.”

“I thought we were gonna ditch the FBI,” Tony grumbled unhappily.

“Chandler just wants to make sure we leave his jurisdiction in one piece,” Gibbs assured him. “He's arranged for a couple of decoy cars to leave before we do and then a low key escort will see us to the city limits. After that, we're on our own, okay?” 

Tony gave a grudging nod of agreement and they resumed their journey to the elevator. Once there, Gibbs had his finger poised to press the down button when a shout from one of the nurses stayed his hand.

“Agent McGee! There's a phone call for you!”

“So close and yet so far,” Tony muttered, staring longingly at the closed doors in front of him.

“I'll only be a minute,” McGee said, hurrying back to the desk and taking the phone from one of the nurses. 

Tony couldn't make out what was being said, but from the deep frown line that appeared between Tim's eyes it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out it wasn't good news. Thankfully it was only a short conversation and McGee quickly ended the call and headed back to them. 

“Okay, McKilljoy, what's gone wrong now?” Tony asked without preamble. 

“We may have a situation downstairs,” the younger agent reported. “That was Ziva. She says there's a couple of men at the main reception desk asking questions about you and claiming to be family.”

“And knowing my family history, you're thinking more along the lines of La Famiglia than concerned relatives, huh?” Tony mused as his stomach started to churn. He unconsciously pulled Davey a little closer and shared a look with Gibbs that spoke volumes. Buchetta was dead and Gallo was safely under lock and key, but this was an unwelcome reminder that they might still be in danger: However tempting it was to pretend they were going to Stillwater on vacation, the reality was that they were actually going into hiding. 

“It's a possibility,” McGee replied reluctantly. 

Tony slumped further into his wheelchair at the news: What if the men downstairs were the same ones who'd opened fire outside his apartment building a few days ago? If they showed the same lack of regard for innocent bystanders in the busy hospital, the potential loss of life didn't bear thinking about – and all because of him. 

Thankfully before his dark thoughts could build up a head of steam, he was startled back to reality by the reassuring weight of Gibbs' hand coming to rest on his good shoulder. 

“Easy, Tony,” the older man murmured quietly. “Lets get more intel before we start jumping to conclusions, okay?”

Tony gave Gibbs a grateful smile and took a few slow breaths to try and calm his racing heartbeat. “Is there any way we can get a look at these guys? If they do work for Gallo, maybe I saw them when I was on my magical mystery tour the other day.”

McGee's face lit up at the chance to do something positive and he moved back to the computer at the nurses' station. “Just give me a minute to access the security system and then we should be able to get a look at what's going on,” he said as the others joined him. He started tapping away at the keyboard and the live feed for the hospital's main reception area appeared on the monitor within seconds. Stepping aside, he let Gibbs manoeuvre the wheelchair so that Tony could have a better view.

Tony immediately started scanning the faces on the screen and quickly spotted the two men who'd raised Ziva's suspicions; they were both tall with dark hair and everything about them screamed 'money', from their expensive, made to measure suits right down to their shiny Italian leather shoes. They both looked agitated and ill at ease and in other circumstances Tony would have pegged them as trouble; this time however, the sight of them made him feel weak with relief. 

“Panic over,” he announced with a slightly shaky voice. “It's Greg Watson and Steve Adler, a couple of my frat brothers who live in New York these days. They must have seen the TV coverage and come down to see what's going on.” He looked up at Gibbs. “We need to get down there before Ziva tries any of her ninja moves on them.”

“No,” Gibbs disagreed. He was relieved the two men were Tony's friends, but it didn't lessen the possibility that some of Gallo's men might be skulking around the hospital. “McGee, let Ziva know who they are and get her to send them up here where we're more secure,” he ordered.

McGee nodded his agreement and picked up the phone to relay the message to his team-mate whilst Gibbs turned to Ducky and Abby. “Can you keep Davey amused for us?” he asked. “We'll get this wrapped up as quickly as possible and be on our way.” 

“No problemo,” Abby agreed with a bright smile, plucking a reluctant-looking Davey off his father's knee.

As Tony watched, the little boy's expression seemed to flicker rapidly from disappointment to hurt and finally to a kind of wounded acceptance that left him with a painful sense of deja-vu. How many times in his own childhood had he felt the same emotions as a promised trip or activity with his father had been cancelled at the last minute?

“Hey, we're still going on vacation, buddy,” he assured his son. “I just need to let my friends know I'm okay and then we're outta here, I promise.”

Davey gave him a penetrating stare. “A colour promise?” he asked. “A pink one, like Abby said?”

Tony was amazed he understood what the little boy meant without having to ask anyone else for a translation and he laughed in delight; he was learning fast. He held out his pinkie finger. “Most definitely a 'pink' one,” he agreed. He watched Davey's face light up as their fingers linked together and he silently reaffirmed his vow to do everything in his power to make up for Senior's casual neglect.

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Ten minutes later, Tony was back in his hospital room trying his best to ignore the nagging aches that were making him increasingly uncomfortable. He'd decided to stay in his wheelchair rather than face the painful transfer back to the bed, but that didn't stop him from staring at it longingly every now and then. He checked his watch again; where were the others? If they didn't arrive soon, he was going to embarrass himself by asking for the good drugs and damn the consequences. 

Just when he was giving the idea more serious consideration, a quick knock announced the arrival of his visitors. McGee appeared at the door first, quickly followed by Gibbs and his frat brothers.

“Tony! Thank God you're alright! When we got stonewalled at reception we thought you must have died or something!” Steve blurted out as soon as he entered the room. 

Greg, who was half a step behind him, snorted and shook his head when he got his first look at his friend. “'Alright? He looks like he's been trampled by a herd of buffalo!” 

“Aw, c'mon, I don't look that bad,” Tony protested, immediately putting his game face on. “I got clipped by a car last week and then got tackled by a guy I pissed off a few days later, no big deal.”

Greg snorted again and rolled his eyes. “No big deal? I swear, anyone would think your main aim in life was to break every bone in your body, you dumb jock!”

“Hey, everybody's gotta have a hobby,” Tony replied with an easy smile, “and I'd rather collect broken bones than admit to being a foamer like you.”

Having been one of Tony's closest friends since their first year at OSU, Greg recognised the deflection tactic for what it was and went along with it. “The term is railfan, as you well know,” he grumbled, trying his best to look offended. After a few seconds he gave in and had to smile. “Dammit, Tony, it's good to see you, even if you did scare us half to death this time.”

“Sorry about that,” Tony apologised. “I would've gotten in touch sooner to let you know what was going on, but it just seems to have been one thing after another the last couple of weeks.” 

“Yeah, we were sorry to hear about your dad, Tony,” Greg said, his expression growing solemn.

“Yeah, he was a piece of work, but he was still your dad,” Steve agreed grudgingly. He let out a yelp of pain as Greg elbowed him in the side and he glared accusingly at his friend. “What? I was only being honest!” he protested.

“There's a time and a place, Stephen,” Greg hissed, giving his friend a disapproving look.

“If Senior didn't give a damn, why should I?” Steve shot back. “In all the time we were in college, he only ever visited once and that was right after Tony broke his leg!”

“Well, there you go. At least he made an effort when it counted.”

“Effort?” Steve barked, sounding increasingly angry. “For God's sake, Greg, he was at the hospital for less than an hour and spent most of his time schmoozing the nurses! Then, when you, me and Ron tried to talk to him about Tony, he was out of there faster than a scalded cat!” 

“What do you mean you tried to talk to him?” Tony asked suspiciously, interrupting the bickering.

His friends exchanged sheepish glances before Greg said, “Well, we just thought...um...with you looking at being laid up in bed for weeks...um...well....”

Steve put a hand on Greg's arm to stop his halting explanation and admitted, “We tried to tap him for some cash for you.”

“Oh,” Tony muttered quietly, looking away. “You never told me.”

“That's because he turned us down flat,” Steve explained, his disgust evident. It had been almost twenty years since they'd tried to get Senior to take some parental responsibility and the man's reaction still had the ability to make him feel physically sick. “We practically chased him through the hospital begging him to change his mind.”

Tony's head jerked up at that and he suddenly looked more focussed. “Can you remember exactly what you said to him?” 

“We just wanted him to know that money was tight and that you were having to work to supplement what you got from your scholarship,” Steve replied with an uncomfortable shrug.

“Did you go into specifics, like maybe how I donated blood and stuff?” Tony pushed, his heart beating faster as an idea started to formulate in his head.

“Um, yeah. About that....” Greg began, sounding even more hesitant than before. “You know what Ron's like when he gets mad, he runs off at the mouth and your dad's attitude had him fit to be tied. He couldn't believe he was being such an asshole to his own son and he blurted out about the sperm bank thing to show how desperate you'd been for cash in the past.”

“You'd have thought we'd told your dad you'd sold your first-born child or something,” Steve said with a grimace. “He dropped the affable act, blew us off and shot out of the parking lot without a backward glance.”

Greg expected Tony to be upset or maybe even angry at their confession, but instead, he was surprised to see a smile spread across his friend's face. 

“I broke my leg in '92,” Tony said cryptically, looking over to where Gibbs had been standing, watching proceedings.

The older man inclined his head in acknowledgement. “Well, that would fit the time-line,” he agreed.

“So, Senior was the one who found out about the sperm and had it pulled from the register?” McGee asked looking a little sceptical. “But why? He couldn't possibly have known he'd need it years later.”

“True,” Tony conceded, “but judging by his reaction to what I'd done and knowing my dad, he obviously didn't want his precious DiNozzo genes being handed out to just anyone. At the time, he probably just wanted the stuff out of circulation, then, years later, he needed a sperm donation and knew exactly where to get it. Why look a gift horse in the mouth?”

“Are we missing something here?” Steve asked, sharing a bewildered look with Greg at the strange turn the conversation had taken.

“I think you guys should sit down and get comfortable,” Tony advised with a grin. “I've got a story to tell you and you're not gonna believe it....”

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By the time they'd explained everything to Tony's frat brothers, allowed them to get over the shock and introduced them to Davey, they'd ended up leaving the hospital almost two hours later than planned. Tony had been exhausted and in enough pain to consider taking the stronger medication, however, that would have meant staying a few more hours for observation and in the end he'd settled for another dose of strong ibuprofen. 

A little over three hours after leaving New York city, Gibbs carefully steered the borrowed sedan he was driving down the familiar main street of his home town. It had taken him considerably longer than usual to cover the distance to Stillwater and the conscious effort to moderate his accustomed driving style had given him a headache. However, with Davey fast asleep in the rear of the car and Tony still dozing in the reclined front seat, the effort had been worth it.

As he reached his father's store he gave it a cursory glance and drove straight past.

“Hey, Boss, I think your aim's a little off today,” Tony remarked, sounding wide awake and more than a little amused. “We just overshot the target area.”

Gibbs snorted in amusement. Tony's knack for seeming to be fast asleep, yet completely on the ball never ceased to surprise him. “My dad's arranged with a realtor friend of his for us to use a ranch style house she's got on her books. It's just through town near the river, so it's more defensible if there's any trouble and it means you'll be able to get around easier.” He glanced over to see a look of disappointment on Tony's face and added, “Dad's arranged cover at the store and he's gonna be staying with us.”

Tony's mood lifted immediately. “Oh, that's great!” He was really looking forward to spending time with the old man.

Gibbs hid a smile at Tony's enthusiastic response and turned the car down a dirt track just past the edge of town and soon a pretty, cedar clad house came into view. As he approached the front porch, Gibbs lifted his foot off the gas and slowly applied the brake, bringing the car to a gentle halt. He glanced over to check that he hadn't disturbed Davey and then carefully exited the car. Before he had a chance to do anything else, his father appeared at the front door.

“Everything okay, son?” Jack asked, heading towards him. “You usually make better time and I was getting worried when you weren't here by five.” 

“Not usually carrying precious cargo, Dad,” Gibbs replied as the two men exchanged a brief hug. "Ducky got word just before we left that his mom's not well, so he's headed back to DC with Palmer and the others are about twenty minutes behind us - just to make sure we didn't pick up a tail." 

"Do you think that's likely?" 

"Not really. We took every precaution and I think we got away clean, but it's better to be safe than sorry," Gibbs replied. 

Jack just nodded as if talk of bad guys chasing his family was an everyday occurence and he moved past his son to get a look inside the car. As he peered through the window, Tony smiled and raised his hand in greeting, causing Jack to frown in concern. “Are you sure that boy should be out o' the hospital, Leroy? He looks pretty banged up to me.”

Gibbs shrugged, heading around the car to get the wheelchair out of the trunk. “The docs agreed to let him go. Besides, Tony's a lot happier when he's not stuck in a hospital bed and I'm a lot happier when he's somewhere I can keep an eye on him. He just needs to take it easy and rest for a while.”

The two men shared a knowing look at how likely that was, then Gibbs went to help Tony out of the car and Jack turned to get his first look at Davey, who chose that moment to open sleepy hazel eyes.

“Well, he's a chip off the old block and no mistake,” Jack observed, giving the child a reassuring smile. 

“Yeah,” Gibbs agreed absently as he turned his attention back to the task at hand and used a technique an orderly had shown him at the hospital to get Tony out of the car with the minimum of fuss. 

Jack watched with growing concern when Tony's face lost all colour during the transfer and he let out a few low moans of pain. 

“You okay there, son?” he asked. 

“Just need a minute to get my breath back,” Tony assured him with a small smile, enjoying the warm feeling he always got whenever Jack called him son.

Gibbs parked the wheelchair by the shallow ramp up to the porch and then opened the back door of the car, reaching inside to release Davey from his car seat. He scooped the child up and settled him in his arms. “Davey, this is my dad.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you young fella,” Jack said, extending his hand and waiting until the little boy did the same so they could shake.

“Thank you, sir,” Davey replied solemnly, reminding Gibbs of their first meeting in Warren Edmonds' office.

Oh, we can't have you calling me sir like that,” Jack protested. “How about you call me Grandpa, huh?” 

“Is it allowed?” Davey asked shyly as Gibbs placed him on Tony's lap. “I never had a gran'pa before.”

“Well, if it's okay with your dad of course,” Jack replied looking to Tony for his approval. 

Tony was a little taken aback. “Are you sure?” he asked uncertainly. He looked over to see Gibbs' reaction to the idea and was pleased to see him smiling.

“Family's family,” Jack replied matter-of-factly, giving Tony's shoulder a squeeze. “Besides,” he continued with a glint of mischief in his eyes, “from what Leroy's told me, the little fella's liable to come up with something a darn sight less flattering given half a chance.”

Tony chuckled. “Yeah, I think you're probably right,” he agreed.

“Well, now that's settled, lets get you all inside before the sun goes down,” Jack suggested, looking up at the sky. “The temperature's likely to drop a good few degrees soon and I've got a nice fire going in the living room.”

“Sounds good to me,” Tony said with a heartfelt sigh of contentment: He might have resisted coming to Stillwater, but he could already feel the worry and tension of the past few weeks fading into the background and the prospect of a couple of weeks R and R with friends and family was more than welcome.

TBC


	25. Chapter 25

Tony awoke the next morning to the sound of muted voices just outside his bedroom door. With a little effort he managed to tune into the conversation and quickly recognised Jack's measured tones trying to persuade Davey to let his daddy sleep a little longer; Davey on the other hand, was sticking to his opinion that they should wake him. The little boy sounded so earnest that Tony couldn't help smiling as he listened.

“But Grampa Jack, it's breakfast time and Daddy needs to get up, 'cause if he doesn't he's gonna miss it, an' he can't miss it 'cause then he won't eat and then he won't get well so quick - Abby says so!” Davey insisted, sounding eerily like their favourite forensics expert.

“Well now that's true, but getting lots of sleep is really important too because that's the time when our bodies get to rest,” Jack explained gently. “It's also the time when we can use more of our energy to mend anything that's hurting us - so, if you think about it, the more sleep your daddy gets, the sooner he'll get better.”

“Oh. Abby never telled me that bit,” Davey admitted, sounding a little crestfallen. 

“Hey, don't worry, he's gonna be up and around in no time,” Jack assured him. “Now how about we go back to the kitchen and make him something that he can eat when he gets up, huh? There's nothing wrong with moving breakfast to a little later in the day and my famous oatmeal is really good for what ails ya.”

“Hey, it's okay you guys, you can come on in - I'm already awake,” Tony called out, hoping to avoid the prospect of more oatmeal: He'd never been a particular fan and after being served that runny gloop at the hospital, he suspected he'd be quite happy to avoid it for the rest of his life.

Within a few seconds, the door was flung open and Davey dashed into the room. “Daddy, did you sleep enough?” he asked anxiously. “Have you done some good mending?”

Tony resisted the urge to laugh and gave a reassuring smile. “Yup, I sure have, but do you know what? I've heard that hugs are the best medicine anyone can get.” He patted the bed and asked, “Do you want to climb up here and give it a try?” 

“I can do that, I can!” Davey agreed with a grin, clambering onto the bed next to Tony and squirming under his arm. “Me an' Grampa Jack are gonna make you oatmeal too, aren't we Grampa Jack? It's real good for...” his voice trailed off and he looked deep in thought before looking over at Jack. “What's it good for, Grampa?” 

“For what ails ya,” Jack supplied with an indulgent smile.

“Oh, yum,” Tony said trying to sound enthusiastic and failing miserably. 

Jack winked at him. “Son, even oatmeal can taste good when you pile it up with honey and cream and sprinkle a little cinnamon on top.” He gave Tony an assessing look before asking, “Are you up to joining us in the kitchen, or should I make up a tray?”

“Depends on how long you give me to get there,” Tony replied with a wry smile. “If I get up now, I might make it by lunchtime.”

“Not with a personal valet and chauffeur at your service,” Gibbs announced from the doorway as he pushed Tony's wheelchair into the room. “Davey, you go help your grandpa start breakfast and we'll be along in a few minutes, okay?” 

“Sure!” Davey replied enthusiastically, giving Tony a quick kiss and then sliding off the bed. “Be quick, Daddy. Me an' Grampa are gonna make lots and lots.” He took hold of Jack's hand and started tugging. “C'mon Grampa, we gotta go!”

“Whoa, slow down there, half-pint, the oatmeal's not going anywhere,” Jack huffed. He resisted long enough to throw a delighted look over his shoulder and then let Davey drag him from the room. 

Tony smiled over at Gibbs. “Looks like Grandpa Jack is a great hit,” he said.

“Yeah,” Gibbs agreed, although the distracted look in his eyes seemed at odds with his reply.

“Are you sure you're okay with this?” Tony asked worriedly. “Would you prefer it if Davey called him Mr Gibbs or something?”

“Absolutely not!” Gibbs insisted, giving himself a mental shake. “The way Dad was with Davey just now reminded me of how he used to be with Kelly and I got hijacked by an old memory, that's all.” He gave a sad smile. “It's good that he gets to be a grandpa again.” 

Tony nodded his agreement, not trusting his voice to remain steady if he tried to speak past the lump in his throat.

“Right then, let's get your lazy ass out of that bed, shall we,” Gibbs said brusquely, not wanting to dwell on the past. He positioned the wheelchair next to the night stand and then gently manhandled Tony to the edge of the bed before deftly completing the transfer.

“Hey, you're getting good at this,” Tony said, settling himself with only a slight groan. “You could have a real future as a manservant if you ever decided on a career change.”

“Oh, really?” Gibbs asked, raising an eyebrow and looking less than impressed.

"Absolutely! Although if I were you, I'd avoid telling your employer he's got a lazy ass or what he should do with it - I don't think that'd go down too well," Tony replied with a smirk. He adopted a posh English accent and added, "I think what you're supposed to ask is whether sir would like you to draw him a bath and after he says yes, you're supposed to present him with a freshly ironed morning newspaper." 

Gibbs snorted in amusement as he headed towards the bathroom to start the shower. 

From where he was sitting in his wheelchair, Tony distinctly heard Gibbs say, "In your dreams, DiNozzo!" before the hiss of water drowned out any further comment. 

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By late evening, Tony was lounging contentedly on a large sofa in the open plan living area with Davey curled up next to him, fast asleep. The sofa was one of three arranged around an imposing stone fireplace and off to the right was a dining area that led on to a modern kitchen; to the left the room ran in an L-shape past the fireplace to sliding glass doors which led out onto a sun deck and garden.

As he lay there, Tony found himself smiling as he looked down at the sleeping child: Davey had been dashing around the house and garden almost the whole day, disappearing for a little while to explore his new surroundings and then running back to Tony every now and then to report back on what he'd found. By far the most exciting discovery had been a jungle gym out back and Davey had whooped with delight as soon as he'd spotted it and had proceeded to clamber up, down and over the thing for what seemed like hours, giving Tony a few heart-stopping moments in the process. 

Gibbs, Ziva and McGee had been absent for most of the day reconnoitring the surrounding area and trying to address any safety concerns they identified. The house already had a decent security system, but McGee had tweaked a few things and added a couple of cameras to cover the approach road: All in all, they'd done as much as they could to ensure Tony and Davey's safety and with no sign of pursuit, Vance wanted Ziva, McGee and Abby back at work after the weekend.

At the thought of their imminent departure, Tony's mood took a dive and he wondered how long the threat of more trouble from Gallo would hang over them: Without Davey in the equation he would've insisted on staying in DC to help with the investigation and to hell with the danger; with Davey, he simply couldn't take the risk. Even though he accepted that fact, he couldn't help wondering when Stillwater would stop being their safe haven and start feeling more like a prison. 

Thankfully Jack chose that moment to enter the room and effectively interrupted his dark thoughts.

“Are you alright, son?” he asked, his voice full of concern. “Do you need your pain pills?”

“No, I'm good thanks,” Tony replied, looking down at Davey and running his hand tenderly over the little boy's hair. “My little entertainer here finally ran his batteries down and left me with too much time to think, that's all.” He gave a wry smile. “I can't believe he lasted as long as he did, to be honest.” 

“Ah, the boundless energy of the young,” Jack said with a smile. He gestured to the sofa next to Tony's and asked, “Mind if I join you? Leroy's making some calls and I thought I'd better make myself scarce.”

“Sure,” Tony agreed immediately. “I've been wanting a chance to thank you properly for helping us out like this. I didn't want to impose, but when Gibbs said you'd offered, I couldn't say no.”

“It's my pleasure,” Jack replied sincerely. “When you get to my age you don't get a lot of opportunities to make a difference any more, even though the will to help is still there.” 

Tony gave him a grateful smile and turned to stare at the flames dancing in the fireplace: Gibbs and his father might seem at opposite ends of the spectrum where conversation was concerned, but when it came down to it, their values were essentially the same and he would trust them both with his life. 

“Where are the others?” Jack asked.

“They're up in the little home office Abby found in the attic this morning,” he replied with a sigh. “She's been holed up in there most of the day searching the internet for the perfect house for me and Davey to live in once this is all over. She's adamant it has to be a house with a big yard and now she's drafted in McGee and Ziva to help her.” He grimaced and waved his hand towards a large pile of papers on the coffee table in front of them. “Those are the details of the ones she's found so far.”

“And you're not so keen?” Jack surmised, noting his less than enthusiastic reaction.

“It's not that I don't think it's a good idea,” Tony began, “it's just that things are changing so fast and I don't want to rush into anything.” He sighed deeply. “I loved my apartment and I had it just the way I wanted it - and now I have to give it up.”

“Surely lots of children are brought up living in apartments these days.”

“Yeah, but not ones whose dad is on the death list of a psycho mob boss,” Tony pointed out. “I'd be stupid to go back to a place they know about and if I have to move anyway, a house seems the logical choice.”

“But not a choice you have to make right now,” Gibbs remarked as he strode into the room. “Once everything with Gallo is squared away, you and Davey can stay with me. That'll give you time to weigh up your options before you have to decide anything.”

Tony looked a little stunned at the offer. “Are you sure, Boss? I mean you're used to having your own space and you like things clean and tidy. How are you gonna put up with the extra noise and mess and mud being tracked through the house every five minutes?” 

“I've done it before, DiNozzo,” Gibbs pointed out. “Besides, with a little time and effort, I'm sure me and Davey can break you of those bad habits.”

Tony tried to look offended, but with Jack guffawing with laughter and Gibbs sporting a wide grin he realised he was fighting a losing battle and couldn't help joining in.

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Once McGee, Ziva and Abby returned to DC, life fell into a strangely leisurely rhythm: Gone were the early morning alarms, the frenetic commutes and the long, stressful days at work they were used to in the city; instead came the opportunity to kick back, relax and enjoy a little family time. The only structured elements to the day were mealtimes, bedtime for Davey and Tony's PT sessions, which Ducky had managed to arrange after one of his contacts suggested using a retired practitioner he knew in the area.

As the days passed, Tony's mobility began to improve dramatically and with it, his optimism about the future. Davey was thriving in their new surroundings and he spent his time zipping around like a frenetic little pinball all day. It was only when sunset signalled time for dinner that he seemed to slow to a more normal pace and afterwards, they'd all relax in front of a roaring fire and watch a DVD until it was time for a story and bed.

Abby contacted them every day and after a few attempts to talk to a suddenly monosyllabic Davey on the phone, she'd switched to Skype and found he was much more animated when he could actually see her. The two were becoming firm friends and Tony would often sit close by and smile as he listened to their conversations being conducted at light speed. 

Unfortunately, on this particular morning Tony was silently cursing good old Chatty Abby who, during a call the night before, had let it slip that she, Ducky and McGee were coming for a visit the next day. Davey had been so excited at the news that any chance of a decent nights sleep had gone right out of the window: It had taken ages to settle him and then he'd woken up at almost hourly intervals, worried he was going to miss their arrival.

As Tony sat there nursing a hot cup of coffee and feeling like death warmed over, he stared balefully at the little pocket rocket sitting across from him tucking into a large bowl of cheerios. How could he look no worse for wear after getting so little sleep?

“Tough night?” Gibbs asked as he walked into the kitchen looking just as well rested as Davey. 

“You could say that,” Tony muttered grumpily, his bleary eyes at half mast. “When Abby gets here, she's on babysitting duty until I catch up on some sleep.”

“Ah, the joys of parenthood,” Jack chuckled as he followed his son into the room. “Just think what you've got to look forward to in the run up to Christmas!”

Tony groaned and took another sip of his coffee.

“Can I leave you guys to it this morning?” Jack asked, bustling about looking for his truck keys. “They're having a bake sale at the community centre and if I don't at least show my face, I'll be black balled from Friday night bingo!” He spotted his keys and was just about to head out when he remembered something. “Oh, Daryl brought some supplies over last night, including the fresh juice and eggs you wanted. They're in the refrigerator.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Gibbs called after his father as he went to get the fixings for breakfast. Tony looked like he could use something more substantial than cereals to kick-start his day. 

“Can I help?” Davey asked, rushing over to join him, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “I'll be real careful.”

Gibbs smiled at Davey's eagerness and nodded his agreement. “Here you go, give that to your dad,” he said passing him a plastic bottle of OJ before grabbing the eggs. As he turned around, movement on the security monitor in the corner of the room caught his eye and he spotted McGee's car just turning down the track towards the house. “Looks like the others are just arriving,” he announced. 

“Yippee!” Davey whooped, practically levitating off the floor as he dashed out of the kitchen. He was in such a hurry that he kept tripping over his own feet, however he still managed to be in position to launch himself into Abby's arms as soon as she stepped through the front door.

“Abby! Abby! Daddy and Boss are making a new baby in the kitchen!” he shouted excitedly. “You wanna come see?”

TBC


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

As Davey threw himself into her arms, Abby was so focussed on catching him that it took a few seconds for his words to really register: When they did, she froze mid-hug and couldn't quite believe what she'd heard. “W...What?” she finally managed to stutter. “Daddy and Boss are doing what?”

“They're making a baby! In the kitchen!” Davey repeated sounding breathless. He wriggled and squirmed until Abby put him down and then reached out to grab her hand. “C'mon we're gonna miss it!”

“Miss what?” McGee asked as he and Ducky arrived with the bags.

“I'm not really sure, but I can't wait to find out!” Abby replied with a grin. Davey was obviously confused about something but that didn't stop her fertile imagination from dreaming up some very interesting scenarios. Allowing herself to be pulled along, she decided Gibbs and Tony were in for some serious teasing.

Once they arrived in the kitchen, she greeted both men with a mischievous smile. “Davey says you two are making a baby in here and he's invited us to watch,” she announced waggling her eyebrows suggestively. “When does the fun begin?” 

Her words had the desired effect and the shocked reactions of the assembled group had Abby laughing in delight. 

Tony practically choked on a mouthful of coffee and quickly moved his hand in front of his mouth to stop it from spraying all over the floor: Trust Abby to find a way to take him from feeling half asleep to fully awake in a matter of seconds! 

“Daddy, is something wrong with your drink?” Davey asked with an endearing look of concern on his face. 

Tony coughed a couple of times to clear his throat. “Um...no, no it's fine. It just went down the wrong way, that's all,” he croaked. “Davey, what have you been telling Abby?”

“That you're gonna make a baby with Boss,” the little boy replied, looking a little puzzled at all the fuss. 

“A baby, huh? What makes you think that?” Gibbs asked evenly, trying his best to keep his expression neutral even though his eyes were sparkling with amusement.

“'Cause Grampa Jack got you juice an' eggs,” Davey explained, pointing at the bottle of OJ and carton of eggs sitting on the counter top.

“Ah, so that's it,” Ducky observed with a slight smile as realisation dawned. “It would seem our little talk at the hospital wasn't quite as successful as I'd hoped.” He sat down and pulled Davey onto his lap, giving him a gentle hug. “You need special eggs and juice to make babies, young man, not the kind you can just go out and buy in a store like your grandfather's.”

“Oh,” Davey huffed with a disappointed little frown on his face. “Do we have to get them at the mall?” 

Tony almost choked on his coffee again and ruthlessly suppressed the urge to laugh as Ducky just shook his head solemnly. 

“Do you know what? They're so special you can't even buy them at the mall!” he explained with a tone of awe in his voice. He jiggled his knee and tickled Davey under the chin. “But that's a story for another time, alright? For now, I think we should concentrate on having fun and getting to know you better because babies are an awful lot of work. Did you know they spend most of the time sleeping and eating and crying....”

“And peeing and pooping!” Davey supplied with a giggle.

“Why that's right young man, and that means changing lots and lots of diapers every day - which isn't very pleasant,” Ducky confided, hoping that would bring an end to the discussion.

Unfortunately Davey didn't seem too convinced and the cute little frown reappeared on his face as he looked over at Tony. “But Shrek liked it and he had three babies, didn't he Daddy?” 

So it wasn't just Ducky's birds and the bees talk that had brought on Davey's enthusiasm for babies, Tony thought as he shared a knowing smile with Gibbs: They'd watched the third Shrek movie a few days earlier and Davey had loved it. He plucked the little boy from Ducky's lap and settled him on his own. “Well that's because ogres live in oozy, slimy swamps and drink slug juice and think icky smells are really nice,” he explained. “Personally, I think diapers are sti-i-i-inky!” he said, pinching his nose and pulling a funny face that had Davey giggling again. 

Gibbs smiled and ruffled the little boy's hair. “I gotta say, I'm with your dad on that one, kiddo. What do you think?”

“Ah-huh, me too!” Davey agreed without hesitation and just like that, it seemed the matter was settled. He looked up at Ducky and asked, “Do you wanna see my jungle gym? It's awesome!”

“Well now, that's a much better idea!” Ducky said enthusiastically, sharing a relieved smile with the others as he allowed Davey to lead him away.

Abby waited until they were out of earshot then came to stand next to Tony, giving him a searching look. “What happened? You looked fine when we skyped yesterday and now you're back to looking all scrinched up and worn out,” she scolded. 

“Hey, it's not my fault. Someone blabbed about coming to visit and got Davey so hyped up he spent most of the night bobbing up and down like an escapee from a Whac-a-mole game,” Tony replied moodily, rubbing at his tired eyes. 

“Aw, I'm sorry, I didn't think,” Abby apologised, slipping her arm around his shoulder. “He just looked so sad when I said we had to sign off and I thought if he knew we were coming to visit, it would cheer him up – and me too, I guess,” she admitted moving in front of Tony to get a proper hug. “I've really missed you guys.”

“We've been in touch every day, Abs,” Tony pointed out with a weary sigh as he returned the hug.

“It's not the same as having you there in person!” Abby insisted, pulling back to look between Tony and Gibbs. “It's like there's this huge gaping hole where you guys should be and it won't be filled until you get home.” 

“We've missed you too,” Gibbs assured her, walking over to claim a hug of his own just as his cell phone began to ring. He frowned as he looked down at the name on the display. “It's Fornell,” he muttered then flipped the phone open and headed out of the kitchen to take the call.

Tony watched him go, his stomach flip-flopping unhappily: A phone call from the FBI on a Saturday morning could only mean one thing; trouble. However, before he could voice his concerns, the house phone began to ring too.

As Abby and McGee looked on, Tony reached over and picked up the receiver and listened intently before saying, “Thanks Jack. I need you to stay where you are until we find out what's going on, okay?” There was a slight pause as he listened to Jack's answer and then he added, “Yeah, I promise we'll be careful,” before ending the call. He replaced the receiver and turned to the others, his expression serious.

“Jack says there's an unfamiliar car heading through town. He thinks there's only one occupant and it may be nothing but we need to get Davey and Ducky inside, now.”

McGee nodded and was about to leave the room when Gibbs returned.

“Stand down, McGee, it's only Fornell. He was calling to let us know he's on his way.”

“Wow, that was unusually thoughtful of him,” Tony snarked, trying to hide his worry.

“Hey, only an idiot would come unannounced with an ex-sniper in the house, right?” McGee pointed out, trying to lighten the mood. “Must mean he left Sacks behind this time.” 

“Yup, he's alone,” Gibbs confirmed, allowing himself a half smile at McGee's comment. “Says he's got news for us.” 

Tony's stomach lurched again and his growing unease shifted up a gear: Why would Fornell travel all that way to see them - and on a weekend too? God, what if they really had brought trouble to Stillwater? Was Jack more exposed out there at the community centre?

Suddenly the comforting weight of Gibbs' hand settled on the back of Tony's neck and broke the younger man from his dark thoughts.

“Relax, Tony. Fornell would've brought backup if there was an active threat.”

Tony looked up to see Gibbs staring at him reassuringly and he offered a watery smile in return. “Yeah, I guess you're right, but I am so ready for all this to be over,” he admitted quietly.

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In the time it took for Fornell to arrive, Abby whisked Davey off to his bedroom to keep him entertained and the others relocated to the living room. Five minutes later McGee ushered their guest into the house and they went to sit by the fire.

“Nice place, Jethro,” Fornell said appreciatively looking around the room. “I gotta say, I was expecting to find you holed up in an old shack out in the middle of nowhere.” 

Gibbs snorted in feigned disgust. “You should get out of the city more often, Tobias. Even the boondocks have indoor plumbing and electricity these days.”

Fornell gave a hearty laugh and settled back on the sofa as Ducky handed him a cup of coffee.

“So, what brings you all the way out here?” Tony asked, trying to sound nonchalant and not quite carrying it off.

“Don't worry, DiNozzo, it's nothing bad,” Fornell assured him. “In fact things have been moving pretty fast and I wanted to bring you up to speed personally.” He paused to take a sip of his coffee and then continued, “First off, I don't think we're going to be able to prosecute Gallo.”

“What!” Tony and McGee shouted in unison whilst Gibbs glared murderously at his friend and even Ducky looked ready to cause some damage.

“We got him bang to rights!” Tony said angrily. “What could be more clear-cut than a taped conversation where he confesses to murder and attempted murder.... Um, we do have him on tape, right? Your techs didn't screw up did they?”

“Calm down and hear me out, okay?” Fornell urged. “There's no screw ups, just a psych evaluation that says Gallo's not fit to stand trial. Seems he's got psychological problems up the wazoo - he's paranoid, aggressive, antisocial, emotionally unstable, self-absorbed – you name it. Even his attack on you was apparently a textbook case of something called narcissistic rage.” He paused and looked pained. “I'm afraid you've replaced Buchetta and your father as the focus of his revenge fantasies.”

This was Fornell's idea of 'nothing bad'? Tony shivered involuntarily and thought back to when he'd walked into Gallo's study and seen his own death in the man's cold eyes. “Well, I guess we all knew that was gonna happen,” he said, trying to sound sanguine. 

“Hey, between the recordings we got from your wire and the information on the flash drive, he'll be too busy rotting in a padded cell to be any threat to you,” Fornell assured him.

“You been holding out on us, Tobias?” Gibbs growled, pinning his friend with an accusing stare. “I thought you said the searches at Senior's properties were a bust, yet now you suddenly have the damned flash drive?”

“Why do you always assume we're not playing fair?” Fornell asked, giving a put-upon sigh. “As it happens, we've only had the thing a few days and we really can't claim any credit for its discovery because one of Buchetta's men just walked in off the street and offered it to us.” 

“You're kidding!” McGee blurted out in surprise.

“Nope. He wanted our protection and knew we'd want something from him in return,” Fornell replied. “To be honest, I don't blame the guy. He's Enzo Pera, one of Buchetta's original inner cadre of seven and as of last Tuesday when Pauli Santini was pulled out of the Hudson, he's the only one left. If you factor in all the casualties of this turf war, the body count stands at fifteen so far and most of them worked for Buchetta.” 

“Did he say how he got hold of the flash drive?” Gibbs asked.

“He was in charge of digging the dirt on Gallo and made both copies himself,” Fornell explained. “He gave one to Buchetta and kept the other as a backup.”

“So, I was right,” Tony murmured quietly. “Old Carmine did manipulate Gallo into killing my dad.”

“Almost certainly,” Fornell agreed giving Tony a sympathetic smile. “At least he didn't succeed where the boy was concerned,” he added when he saw a quick flash of pain in the younger man's eyes.

Tony gave a nod of acknowledgement, but otherwise looked lost in thought.

“So what happens now?” Gibbs asked, deciding to move the conversation along.

“Well the good news is, there seems to be pretty universal agreement that everyone's better off with Gallo out of the picture,” Fornell said with satisfaction. “Even his own men seem far more interested in grabbing what they can for themselves, rather than trying to secure his release and it looks like Director Vance read the situation right because they don't seem to have any interest in pursuing Gallo's personal vendettas.”

“Twas ever thus,” Ducky commented. “These tinpot Hitlers should realise that ruling their little empires through fear and intimidation never bodes well for them if the tables are turned.” 

“So you think it's safe to break cover?” Tony asked, immediately perking up at the idea of going home.

“I'd suggest leaving it a few more days to be on the safe side,” Fornell advised. “The information on that flash drive's been a godsend and we've managed to identify the main players and their business dealings, so we'll put out a few feelers to see what happens.” He grinned and added, “Even with what we've got so far, we could be looking at the biggest blow to organised crime since the Five Families trials in the eighties!”

Gibbs shot a questioning glance over at McGee. “Is that doable?” he asked.

“Um, uh, sure...I guess so,” McGee stuttered, momentarily taken by surprise. He took a breath and looked over to where Tony was eyeing him suspiciously. “ Ziva's been working on a low key security plan for when you get back, just to cover all bases,” he explained. “She's just ironing out the last few issues and I'm sure we can get everything sorted by next weekend.”

“Good,” Gibbs said with satisfaction. “If we don't hear of any adverse chatter or activity this week, we'll head home.”

Tony felt his heart lift at the words and he enjoyed the sensation for a couple of seconds before a sudden thought struck him: How was Davey going to react to having to leave his 'Grampa' Jack behind?

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In the week following Fornell's visit, the FBI agents monitoring Gallo and Buchetta's former organisations focussed on discovering whether there was any indication of an active threat to Tony and Davey. When nothing even pinged their radar by Friday, the go ahead was given for their return to DC. 

As expected, Davey was upset when he heard Grampa would be staying in Stillwater, but the promise of a visit very soon and Jack's assurances that he'd get a Skype account sorted as soon as possible soon had the little boy smiling again.

Late the next evening, Gibbs was finally able to pull his car into his own driveway for the first time in weeks and even though they were greeted by dreary skies and heavy rain, he couldn't help letting out a heartfelt sigh of contentment. 

“It's good to be home, huh?” Tony observed wistfully from the seat beside him.

Gibbs turned to face the younger man, sensing his melancholy mood. “It's your home too, yours and Davey's for as long as you want to stay.”

“Yeah, I know,” Tony replied, managing to conjure up a weak smile. “Ignore me, I'm just feeling sorry for myself.”

“This once, I think you're entitled. It's been a helluva few weeks.” 

“Yeah, but you know what?” Tony asked glancing over his shoulder to where Davey was fast asleep in his car seat. “The pay-off was totally worth it!”

Gibbs couldn't help smiling in response to the huge grin on Tony's face and he allowed himself a second to marvel at the younger man's ability to bounce back from practically anything. “DiNozzo, it doesn't happen often, but when you're right, you're right,” he conceded.

“Now that's more like the Boss I know and love!” Tony quipped as he started to laugh quietly.  
.  
Gibbs rolled his eyes and then reached over to give Tony a quick clip on the back of the head. “You'd better believe it. Now stop lollygagging and let's get inside.”

“Oh, Boss, I think we got you out of Stillwater just in time,” Tony joked. “ Another week and you'd've been rocking away there on your dad's porch, smoking a corncob pipe.”

When Gibbs scowled and raised his hand to deliver another swat, Tony dodged sideways and managed to open the car door and make a hasty exit just as Abby emerged from the front door, quickly followed by McGee. Ziva appeared from around the side of the house just long enough to acknowledge their presence with a smile and a nod and then returned to her post in the backyard.

“You're here! You're here!” Abby carolled practically bouncing down the steps to greet him. “Where's my favourite munchkin?”

“Dead to the world,” Gibbs replied as he got out of the car and went around to release Davey from his car seat. As he settled the child comfortably against his shoulder he called to McGee, “Grab the bags from the trunk. Tony's still on light duties.”

As they entered the house there was a smell of fresh paint but Tony couldn't see any changes to the décor. “What's been going on?” he asked. 

“Just a little redecorating,” Gibbs said dismissively as he headed straight up the stairs. “Abby's Habitat for Humanity project's still stalled and she asked her team if they'd help out here.” He stopped momentarily when they reached what had once been Kelly's room and then pushed the door open.

“Oh, wow!” Tony breathed in awe as he took in the transformation of the room that had always been used for storage in the time he'd known Gibbs: Now it was a little boy's bedroom complete with hand crafted furniture, brightly coloured curtains, a plush blue carpet and an amazing mural painted on one of the walls depicting all of Davey's favourite cartoon characters. 

“Do you think he'll like it?” Abby asked anxiously. “My friend, Julian, wanted to do a pirate room and I thought it'd be great, but you said no black and skulls and stuff so I had to nix the idea.”

“He's gonna love it, Abs,” Tony assured her, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “And I promise I'll let you give him a pirate room when he's older, okay?”

Abby beamed and gave him an enthusiastic hug. “I'll hold you to that and I'm sure Davey'll love it once we introduce him to the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise!”

Gibbs made short work of getting Davey into his 'snugglies' and had to hide a fond smile when he noticed how attentive Tony was to the whole process; no doubt trying to pick up a few tips for when his arm was out of its cast and he'd have a chance to do it himself. 

They took it in turns for goodnight kisses but Davey hardly stirred and with a mumbled, “Night, Daddy. Night, Boss,” he snuggled closer into his pillow and fell back to sleep.

“I think he's down for the count, Abs,” Tony said apologetically as he placed the framed photo of Davey and his Maria on the night-stand next to the bed so the little boy would be able to see it when he woke up in the morning. “It's been a long day.”

“Hey, I knew you'd all be too tired for any fuss and now that you're home for good I don't mind. I'll just start spoiling him tomorrow instead," she assured him as they backed out of the room and headed down the stairs. "Ducky and Jimmy are coming and we've got welcome home presents and everything!”

“Welcome home presents?” Tony asked eagerly even as he collapsed onto Gibbs' old sofa. “Do we all get some?”

“Well as a matter of fact, I've got something for you,” McGee announced looking a little self-conscious. 

“A good something or a bad something?” Tony asked, eyeing the laptop his partner placed next to him as if it might contain a bomb. 

“Definitely a good something,” McGee assured him, taking a minute to log-on and find what he wanted before turning the computer so they could all see. “All you have to do is press enter.”

Tony gave McGee a suspicious look. “It's not that YouTube clip of the fat cat playing a keyboard is it?” 

“Not even close,” McGee chuckled, reaching over to press the button himself. 

The footage that appeared on the screen had no sound and the camera angle was a little awkward but Tony was soon watching with rapt attention as the confrontation between Ron Sacks and his team-mates unfolded before his eyes. When it came to the part where McGee threw his beautifully timed left hook to deck Sacks, he couldn't contain his delight any longer and he pulled the younger man towards him, planting a big kiss on his forehead.

“Aw, Probie, you do love me!” he said gleefully. “How did you get your hands on this?”

“I had some time to kill the day you were released from the hospital,” McGee explained looking a little stunned at Tony's response. “They let me access the security system from the nurses' station and I downloaded all the footage from the camera by the elevator onto a flash drive. Once we got back to DC, I found the right time stamp and captured the part we wanted.” 

“So you could get me a screen-cap of when your fist connects with Sack's nose?” Tony asked eagerly. “It'd make a great screen saver!”

“Absolutely not!” McGee replied, going from looking smug to horrified in a split second. “This is for your eyes only!” 

“Aw c'mon. You mean I can't even post it on YouTube?” Tony complained with an exaggerated pout. “I bet it'd get more hits than that stupid cat.” 

“It shows me assaulting a Federal agent, Tony. If it ever got out, I could lose my job.”

“Yeah, Tony. Don't be mean to Timmy,” Abby protested teasingly, punching him on the arm. 

“You need to take a chill pill, Timmy. I wouldn't do that to you,” Tony replied making a big deal of rubbing his arm. “I do want an eight-by-ten glossy though.”

When McGee gave a reluctant nod, the others started to laugh and Tony settled back into the worn old sofa and relaxed. He loved these people with a passion that didn't depend on shared blood and he knew that Davey would grow up in the loving family he'd personally never experienced. As he glanced over to where Gibbs was sitting, he recognised a similar expression on the older man's face and they shared a knowing look. 

Life was good.

The End 

A/N Please PM me if you spot any errors I've missed. Many thanks, Karen :)


End file.
